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Abencerrages admiration Almack's amusement appearance artist beauty Benvenuto better breath called Cape Turnagain Captain Casimir Delavigne character corpulence court death delight Domitian dress earth effect English expedition eyes fancy favour fear feel French George Withers give Greek Grenada hand head heard heart honour hope human imagination Iñigo Arista Ireland Irish king labour lady Lady Morgan Lancaster Sound leave less light live look Lord Luigi manner Masaniello matter means Melville Island mind Naples nature never night o'er object once opinion pass passion perhaps person pleasure poet poetry political present racter reader reason Repulse Bay round Salvator Rosa scarcely scene shew sleep sneeze Sorbonne soul spirit style sweet thee thing thou thought tion Tittup took truth turn Voltaire whole wind word writing young
Seite 60 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath. And stars to set — but all — Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death ! THE LOST PLEIAD.
Seite 264 - O Proserpina, For the flowers now that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength...
Seite 85 - Would I were dead! if God's good will were so: For what is in this world but grief and woe ? O God ! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain : To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point...
Seite 32 - E'en now, where Alpine solitudes ascend, I sit me down a pensive hour to spend ; And placed on high above the storm's career, Look downward where an hundred realms appear ; Lakes, forests, cities, plains extending wide, The pomp of kings, the shepherd's humbler pride.
Seite 485 - Out of every corner of the woods and glens they came creeping forth upon their hands, for their legs could not bear them; they looked like anatomies of death ; they spake like ghosts crying out of their graves...
Seite 420 - Me, of these Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument "Remains ; sufficient of itself to raise That name, unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years damp my intended wing Depress'd ; and much they may, if all be mine, Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.
Seite 383 - Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer being here below? The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play? Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood.
Seite 60 - Death ! Day is for mortal care, Eve, for glad meetings round the joyous hearth, Night, for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer ; But all for thee, thou mightiest of the earth ! The banquet hath its hour, Its feverish hour of mirth, and song, and wine; There comes a day for griefs o'erwhelming power, A time for softer tears...