Scenes and shadows of days departed; a narrative, accompanied with poems of youth [&c.]. |
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Scenes and Shadows of Days Departed: A Narrative, Accompanied with Poems of ... William Lisle Bowles No preview available - 2016 |
Scenes and Shadows of Days Departed: A Narrative, Accompanied with Poems of ... William Lisle Bowles No preview available - 2009 |
Scenes and Shadows of Days Departed: A Narrative, Accompanied with Poems of ... William Lisle Bowles No preview available - 2009 |
Common terms and phrases
amid Archbishop of Canterbury BAMBOROUGH CASTLE Banwell Hill BATTLE OF HASTINGS beautiful behold bells beneath Bishop Bowles breast breath Bremhill brow cheer Chippenham cold dark Days Departed dead delight distant Dona pacem earth Ev'n farewell father flow'rs forget gaze gentle grave green grey hand Harold hear heard heart heav'n hope hour journey landscape life's lift light lives lone look Lord Byron lov'd Marquess of Lansdowne methought morn mournful murmuring musing Nathaniel Crew night Northamptonshire o'er pale pass'd peace peal pensive play'd poem poor Redcliff riven rocks road Robin Crusoe rocks roll'd seem'd shade sigh silent sing slow smile solitary song Sonnets soothe sorrow sound steal summer sung sweet SYLPH tears thee thine thou dost thought thro tow'r Uphill vale voice WALTHAM ABBEY wanders wave weary whilst Wick Hill winds wing woods youth
Popular passages
Page 32 - How sweet the tuneful bells responsive peal ! As when, at opening morn, the fragrant breeze Breathes on the trembling sense of wan disease, So piercing to my heart their force I feel ! And hark ! with lessening cadence now they fall, And now along the white and level tide They fling their melancholy music wide, Bidding me many a tender thought recall Of...
Page 86 - Promised methought long days of bliss sincere ! Soothing it stole on my deluded ear, Most like soft music, that might sometimes cheat Thoughts dark and drooping ! 'Twas the voice of Hope. Of love, and social scenes, it...
Page 83 - Delightful bathed with slow-ascending dews ! Or marks the clouds that o'er the mountain's head In varying forms fantastic wander white ; Or turns his ear to every random song, Heard the green river's winding marge along, The whilst each sense is steep'd in still delight.
Page 85 - There is strange music in the stirring wind, When lowers the autumnal eve, and all alone To the dark wood's cold covert thou art gone, Whose ancient trees on the rough slope reclined Rock, and at times scatter their tresses sere.
Page 20 - The cold limbs of my brave, my beauteous child ? Oh ! I shall never, never hear his voice. The spring-time shall return, the isles rejoice, But faint and weary I shall meet the morn, And, 'mid the cheering sunshine, droop forlorn ! The joyous conch sounds in the high wood loud, O'er all the beach now stream the busy crowd ; Fresh breezes stir the waving plantain grove, The fisher carols in the winding cove...
Page 9 - The azure heav'n, or purple lights of morn ? Is aught so fair in evening's ling'ring gleam, As from thine eye the meek and pensive beam That falls like saddest moonlight on the hill And distant grove, when the wide world is still ? Thine are the ample views, that unconfin'd Stretch to the utmost walks of human kind; Thine is the spirit, that with widest plan Brother to brother binds, and man to man.
Page 30 - Time ! who know'st a lenient hand to lay Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence, Lulling to sad repose the weary sense, The faint pang stealest unperceived away; On thee I rest my only hope at last, And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear...
Page 87 - How shall I meet thee, Summer, wont to fill My heart with gladness, when thy pleasant tide First came, and on each coomb's romantic side Was heard the distant cuckoo's hollow bill ? Fresh flowers shall fringe the wild brink of the stream, As with the songs of joyance and of hope The hedge-rows shall ring loud, and on the slope The poplars sparkle in the transient beam; The shrubs and laurels which I loved...
Page 40 - Time has stol'n away Full thirty years, leaving my temples bare. So hath it perished like a thing of air, The dream of Love and Youth ! — Now both are grey, Yet still remembering that delightful day, Though Time with his cold touch...
Page 118 - tis sweet, In some remote retreat, To hear the murmuring dove, With those whom on earth alone we love, And to wind through the greenwood together. But when 'tis winter weather, And crosses grieve, And friends deceive, And rain and sleet The lattice beat...