Poems of Many YearsWilliam D. Ticknor & Company, 1846 - 279 Seiten |
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50 cents Atalantis Beauty beneath blest bliss bloom BOOK OF SORROW breath bright brow calm CHARLES LAMB dare dark dear Death delight divine dream earth easy wheels eternal evil eyes face faint faith fear feeding the multitudes feel flowers fresh friendships pass gaze GHAZELES glory gone grace grief hand happy hear hear my songs heart Heaven home of truth hope hour Lady Moon light listen live Long-ago look memory mind mortal mourn Nature Nature's never night o'er old Manorial Hall once pain passion past pleasure Poet poison'd poor pride repose rest RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES round sense shame shore sighs sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit strife strong sweet tears thee thine things are small thou art thought toil tomb tone truth voice wander weary weep WILLIAM MOTHERWELL words young Passion youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 121 - If you have no power of giving ; — An arm of aid to the weak ; — A friendly hand to the friendless ; — Kind words so short to speak, But whose echo is endless — The world is wide ; these things are small ; They may be nothing, but they are all.
Seite 237 - Wishing to weep? Ask me not this, little child, if you love me; You are too bold: I must obey my dear Father above me, And do as I'm told. Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving? Over the sea. Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving? All that love me, LORD HOUGHTON, (Richard Monckton Milnes).
Seite 113 - Long-ago. On that deep-retiring shore Frequent pearls of beauty lie, Where the passion-waves of yore Fiercely beat and mounted high : Sorrows that are sorrows still Lose the bitter taste of woe ; Nothing's altogether ill In the griefs of Long-ago. Tombs where lonely love repines, Ghastly tenements of tears, Wear the look of happy shrines Through the golden mist of years : Death, to those who trust in good, Vindicates his hardest blow ; Oh ! we would not, if we could, Wake the sleep of Long-ago !...
Seite 125 - Not conscious what mere drops they cast Into the evil sea. A man's best things are nearest him, Lie close about his feet, It is the distant and the dim That we are sick to greet : For flowers that grow our hands beneath We struggle and aspire, — Our hearts must die, except they breathe The air of fresh Desire. Yet, Brothers, who up Reason's hill Advance with hopeful cheer, — O ! loiter not, those heights are chill, As chill as they are clear ; And still restrain your haughty gaze, The loftier...
Seite 122 - And a terrible heart-thrill, If you' have no power of giving ; An arm of aid to the weak, A friendly hand to the friendless, Kind words, so short to speak, But whose echo is endless : The world is wide, — these things are small, They may be nothing, but they are All.
Seite 77 - And led the way through the upper hyaline, Smiling in beauty tenfold glorified, Which, while on earth, had seemed enough divine, The beauty of the Spirit-Bride, Who guided the rapt Florentine. " The depth of human reason must become As deep as is the holy human heart, Ere aught in written phrases can impart The might and meaning of that ecstasy To those low souls, who hold the mystery Of the unseen universe for dark and dumb.
Seite 244 - But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. Fast silent tears were flowing, When something stood behind; A hand was on my shoulder, — I knew its touch was kind: It drew me nearer, — nearer, — We did not speak one word, For the beating of our own hearts Was all the sound we heard.
Seite 22 - Let us go forth, and resolutely dare, With sweat of brow, to toil our little day, — And if a tear fall on the task of care, In memory of those spring-hours past away, Brush it not by ! Our hearts to God ! to brother-men Aid, labor, blessing, prayer, and then To these a sigh ! VOL.