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Poets of England and America: Being Selections from the Best Authors of Both ...
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ALLAN CUNNINGHAM amid Auld Robin Gray BARRY CORNWALL beauty BEN JONSON beneath birds bloom blossoms boughs breast breath bright brow CHARLES LAMB charms Cloudland clouds crown dear deep delight doth dream earth ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING eyes face Faerie Queene fair fancy feel flowers folding star gaze gentle golden grace grave green hallowed ground hame happy hath hear heard heart heaven hill hour kiss Lady leaves LEIGH HUNT light lips live look lover melody mind morn mournful murmur ne'er never night numbers o'er pale pleasure Poems poet Poetry praise pride RICHARD LOVELACE right hand path round shade shine sigh silent sing sleep smile snow soft song sorrow soul Spring stars stream sweet tears tell tender thee thine THOMAS HOOD thou art thought tree twine unto vale voice wanton weep wild wind wings woes woods young youth
Page 12 - There is no Death ! What seems so is transition ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call death.
Page 220 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Page 62 - MAY MORNING. Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Page 39 - What thou art we know not; What is most like thee? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
Page 389 - Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams ; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use, Of shades and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Page 400 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride: His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare; .Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And ' Let us worship God !* he says, with solemn air.
Page 146 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven. As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Page 248 - And bring all heaven before mine eyes. And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Page 400 - The priest-like father reads the sacred page, How Abram was the friend of God on high; Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage With Amalek's ungracious progeny; Or how the royal bard did groaning lie Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire; Or Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry; Or rapt Isaiah's wild seraphic fire ; Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre.