Phantasmion

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W. Pickering, 1837 - 387 pages
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Page 249 - E'en in swift course the river seems to rest, Blue sky, bright bloom and verdure imag'd on its breast. And, whilst with thee I roam through regions bright, Beneath kind love's serene and gladsome sky, A thousand happy things that seek the light, Till now in darkest shadow forc'd to lie, Up through the illumin'd waters nimbly run, To shew their forms and hues in the all revealing sun.
Page 248 - I was a brook in straitest channel pent, Forcing 'mid rocks and stones my toilsome way, A scanty brook in wandering well-nigh spent ; But now with thee, rich stream, conjoin'd I stray, Through golden meads the river sweeps along, Murmuring its deep full joy in gentlest undersong. I crept through desert moor and gloomy glade, My waters ever vex'd, yet sad and slow, My waters ever steep'd in baleful shade : But, whilst...
Page 86 - She that latest leaves the nest, Little fledgling much carest, Is not therefore loved the best, Though the most protected ; Nor the gadding, daring child, Oft reproved for antics wild, Of our tenderness beguiled, Or in thought neglected. 'Gainst the islet's rocky shore Waves are beating evermore, Yet with blooms it 's scattered o'er, Decked in softest lustre ; Nature favors it no less Than the guarded, still recess, Where the birds for shelter press, And the harebells cluster. THE HUSBANDMAN. —...
Page 236 - He came unlook'd for, undesir'd, A sun-rise in the northern sky: More than the brightest dawn admir'd, To shine and then for ever fly. His love, conferr'd without a claim, Perchance was like the fitful blaze, Which lives to light a steadier flame, And, while that strengthens, fast decays. Glad fawn along the forest springing, Gay birds that breeze-like stir the leaves, Why hither haste, no message bringing, To solace one that deeply grieves ? Thou star that dost the skies adorn, So brightly heralding...
Page 348 - ... yon blithe child that dances in our sight ! Can gloomy shadows fall from one so bright ? Fond mother, whence these fears ? While buoyantly he rushes o'er the lawn, Dream not of clouds to stain his manhood's dawn, Nor dim that sight with tears. No~ cloud he spies in brightly glowing hours, But feels as if the newly vested bowers For him could never fade : Too well we know that vernal pleasures fleet, But having him, so gladsome, fair, and sweet, Our loss is overpaid. Amid the balmiest flowers...
Page 287 - Blest is the tarn which towering cliffs o'ershade, Which, cradled deep within the mountain's breast, Nor voices loud, nor dashing oars invade : Yet e'en the tarn enjoys no perfect rest, For oft the angry skies her peace molest, With them she frowns, gives back the lightning's glare, Then rages wildly in the troubled air. This calmer lake, which potent spells protect, Lies dimly slumbering through the fires of day, And when yon skies, with chaste resplendence...
Page 141 - Then, in a low lulling tone, she sang these words : — 0 sleep, my babe, hear not the rippling wave, Nor feel the breeze that round thee lingering strays To drink thy balmy breath, And sigh one long farewell Soon shall it mourn above thy wat'ry bed, And whisper to me, on the wave-beat shore, Deep murm'ring in reproach, Thy sad untimely fate. Ere those dear eyes had opened on the light, In vain to plead, thy coming life was sold, O ! wakened but to sleep, Whence it can wake no more ! A thousand and...
Page 344 - Full oft before some gorgeous fane The youngling heifer bleeds and dies ; Her life-blood issuing forth amain, While wreaths of incense climb the skies. The mother wanders all around, Through shadowy grove and lightsome glade ; Her foot-marks on the yielding ground Will prove what anxious quest she made. The stall where late her darling lay She visits oft with eager look : In restless movements wastes the day, And fills with cries each neighbouring nook. She roams along the willowy copse, Where purest...
Page 157 - ... sky, Which, when rude gales are sweeping by. Desert the lake. Of late I saw thee in a dream ; The day-star pour'd his hottest beam, And thou, a cool refreshing stream, Did'st brightly run : The trees where thou wert pleased to flow, Threw out their flowers, a glorious show, While I, too distant doomed to grow, Pined in the sun. By no life-giving moisture fed, A wasted tree, I bow'd my head, My sallow leaves and blossoms shed On earth's green breast : And silent pray'd the slumbering wind, The...
Page 157 - Thou tak'st my offer'd hand in thine, Lest passion-breathing words of mine The charm should break: And friendly smiles be forced to fly, Like soft reflections of the sky, Which, when rude gales are sweeping by, Desert the lake. Of late I saw thee in a dream ; The day-star pour'd his hottest beam, And thou, a cool refreshing stream, Did'st brightly run: The trees where thou wert pleased to flow, Threw out their flowers, a glorious show, While I, too distant doomed to grow, Pined in the sun.

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