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age to age amidst arms art thou beauty behold beneath blest blood bosom breast breath Capel Lofft Charles Lamb charm child clouds dark dead death deep delight dream earth eternal fear fire flame fled flowers gaze gloom glory Gondoline grace grave Greenland grief hand harp hath heard heart heaven Henry Kirke White hope hour Javan land light living lonely look'd Lord lyre mind moon morning mother mountains muse Nature's never night Note numbers o'er once pale pass'd peace Petrarch PSALM rapture rest rise rock rose round scene seem'd shade shine shore sigh silent sing sleep slumbers smile song SONNET sorrow soul spirit star stood storm sublime sweet tears tempest thee Theodric thine thou thought tomb trembling turn'd vale Venice voice wandering waves weep wild wind wings woods youth
Page 96 - MINE be a cot beside the hill, A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear ; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.
Page 39 - I'll row you o'er the ferry." By this the storm grew loud apace, The water-wraith was shrieking ; And in the scowl of Heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer.
Page 70 - GOD is my strong salvation, What foe have I to fear ? In darkness and temptation, My light, my help is near.
Page 75 - For Him shall prayer unceasing And daily vows ascend, His kingdom still increasing, A kingdom without end: The mountain-dews shall nourish ' A seed in weakness sown, Whose fruit shall spread and flourish And shake like Lebanon.
Page 4 - Come, bright Improvement ! on the car of Time; And rule the spacious world from clime to clime ; Thy handmaid arts shall every wild explore, Trace every wave, and culture every shore.
Page 119 - The storm, that wrecks the winter sky, No more disturbs their deep repose, Than summer evening's latest sigh That shuts the rose.
Page 93 - That very law* which moulds a tear, And bids it trickle from its source, That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course.
Page 40 - By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw, And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.