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amid arms beautiful Behold beneath beside bless blood breath child closed cried dead dear death deep delight dreadful earth face fair faith fall Father fear feel feet fell felt field fire flow gave given Goth hand happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven held hills hope hour human King laid land leaves light living look Lord Madoc morn mother mountain moved natural never night o'er once pain pass poem prayer raised receive rest rising rock Roderick rose round seen shame shore side sight silent song soon soul sound Southey spake spirit spread stood stream strength sure sweet sword tears tell Thalaba thee thine things thou thou hast thought Tree victory voice waters waves wild wind Witiza young youth
Page 55 - And often when I go to plough. The ploughshare turns them out; For many thousand men," said he, " Were slain in that great victory ! " " Now, tell us what 'twas all about," Young Peterkin he cries ; And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes ; " Now tell us all about the war, And what they killed each other for."
Page 2 - With tears of thoughtful gratitude. My thoughts are with the Dead, with them I live in long-past years, Their virtues love, their faults condemn, Partake their hopes and fears, And from their lessons seek and find Instruction with an humble mind.
Page 54 - IT was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done, And he before his cottage door Was sitting in the sun, And by him sported on the green His little grandchild Wilhelmine.
Page 75 - How beautiful is night ! A dewy freshness fills the silent air, No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven : In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine Rolls through the dark blue depths.
Page 11 - And hitting and splitting, And shining and twining, And rattling and battling, And shaking and quaking, And pouring and roaring, And waving and raving...
Page 11 - The cataract strong Then plunges along, Striking and raging As if a war waging Its caverns and rocks among ; Rising and leaping, Sinking and creeping, Swelling and sweeping, Showering and springing, Flying and flinging, Writhing and ringing, Eddying and whisking, Spouting and frisking, Turning and twisting, Around and around With endless rebound ; Smiting and fighting, A sight to delight in ; Confounding, astounding, Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.
Page 66 - The poor folk flocked from far and near ; The great barn was full as it could hold Of women and children, and young and old. Then when he saw it could hold no more Bishop Hatto he made fast the door ; And while for mercy on Christ they call, He set fire to the barn and burnt them all. " I' faith, 'tis an excellent bonfire ! " quoth he, " And the country is greatly obliged to me, For ridding it in these times forlorn, Of rats, that only consume the corn.
Page 73 - And there was not a cloud in the sky. He drank of the water so cool and clear, For thirsty and hot was he ; And he sat down upon the bank, Under the willow-tree.