Was andere dazu sagen - Rezension schreiben
Es wurden keine Rezensionen gefunden.
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
art thou beauty beneath Blackwood's Magazine blest bliss bloom blue bosom bower breast breath bright brow calm charms cheek child clouds cold courser dark dear death deep dream earth Elderslie fading fair fancy Farewell fear flowers gaze gentle gleam gloom glow Godiva gondolier grave green grief hand Harebells hath heart heaven hope hour James Hogg John Clare John Moultrie kiss life's light lips Literary Gazette Literary Souvenir lonely look lute lyre mirth morn mourn muse ne'er neath never night numbers o'er Olmutz pale rapture rill rock round scene shade shine shore sigh silent skies sleep slumber smile soft song soul sound spirit star stream sweet tears tell thee thine THoMAs DoubleDAY Thomas Hood thou art thou hast thou wert thought throne tomb voice wandering wave weep wild wind wings young youth
Seite 223 - Beyond the flight of time, Beyond this vale of death, There surely is some blessed clime, Where life is not a breath ; Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward...
Seite 89 - All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair — The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Seite 208 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Seite 202 - THE boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though child-like form.
Seite 221 - To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Seite 155 - ALL worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, The Sun himself must die, Before this mortal shall assume Its immortality ! I saw a vision in my sleep, That gave my spirit strength to sweep Adown the gulf of Time ! I...
Seite 203 - The boy — oh ! where was he ? Ask of the winds, that far around With fragments strewed the sea ! With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, That well had borne their part — But the noblest thing that perished there, Was that young, faithful heart.
Seite 156 - Go, let oblivion's curtain fall Upon the stage of men. Nor with thy rising beams recall Life's tragedy again: Its piteous pageants bring not back, Nor waken flesh, upon the rack Of pain anew to writhe; Stretched in disease's shapes abhorred, Or mown in battle by the sword, Like grass beneath the scythe.