The poetical sketch-book, including a 3rd ed. of Australia

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Seite 129 - The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou nearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth ; so is every one that is born of the Spirit.
Seite 53 - Escaped o'er fortune's troubled wave, To anchor in the silent grave ! That quiet land where, peril past, The weary win a long repose, The bruised spirit finds, at last, A balm for all its woes, And lowly grief and lordly pride Lie down, like brothers, side by side ! The breath of slander cannot come...
Seite 75 - ... vision there, Some voice that should have spoken Of climes to be laid waste and bare, And glad young spirits broken ! Of waters dried away, And hope and beauty blasted ! — That scenes so fair and hearts so gay Should be so early wasted ! A dream of other days ! That land is a...
Seite 75 - And the /Ethiop's heart throbs loud and high, Beneath his white symar ; And the .Lybian kneels, as he meets her eye, Like the flash of an Eastern star ! The gales may not be heard, Yet the silken streamers quiver, And the vessel shoots — like a bright-plumed bird — Away, down the golden river ! Away by the lofty mount ! And away by the lonely shore ! And away by the gushing of many a fount—- Where fountains gush no more...
Seite 10 - With streamers afloat, and with canvass unfurled ; All gladness and glory, to wandering eyes, Yet chartered by sorrow, and freighted with sighs : Fading and false is the aspect it wears, As the smiles we put on, just to cover our tears...
Seite 23 - THINK of thee, in the night When all beside is still, And the moon comes out, with her pale sad light, To sit on the lonely hill : — When the stars are all like dreams, And the breezes all like sighs, And there comes a voice from far off streams, Like thy spirit's low replies ! I think of thee by day,
Seite 9 - Music around her, and sunshine on high — Pauses to think, amid glitter and glow, Oh ! there be hearts that are breaking below ! Night on the waves ! — and the moon is on high, Hung, like a gem, on the brow of the sky, Treading its depths in the power of her might, And turning the clouds, as they pass her, to light...
Seite 15 - In vain the turban'd tyrant rears his halls, And plants the symbol of his faith and slaughters, — Now, even now, the beam of promise falls Bright upon Hellas, as her own bright daughters, And a Greek Ararat is rising o'er the waters ! Thou art not silent ! — when the southern fair, Ionia's moon ", looks down upon thy breast, Smiling, as pity smiles above despair, Soft as young beauty soothing age to rest, Sings the night-spirit in thy weedy crest ; And she, the minstrel of the moonlight hours,...
Seite 16 - And hoots the prophet-owl amid his tangled bowers. " And round thine altar's mouldering stones are born Mysterious harpings, wild as ever crept From him who waked Aurora every morn, And sad as those he sung her till she slept ! A thousand, and a thousand years have swept O'er thee, who wert a moral from thy spring — A wreck in youth ! nor vainly hast thou kept Thy lyre ! Olympia's soul is on the wing, And a new Iphitus has waked beneath its string ! " THE M'w \'(-. MAID OF ATHENS. Drawn by F. Stone,...
Seite 8 - O'er the glad waves, like a child of the sun, See the tall vessel goes gallantly on ; Full to the breeze she unbosoms her sail, And her pennon streams onward, like hope, in the gale ; The winds come around her, in murmur and song, And the surges rejoice as they bear her along : See ! she looks up to the golden-edged clouds, And the sailor sings gaily aloft in the shrouds...

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