The Literary Souvenir: Or, Cabinet of Poetry and Romance

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Alaric Alexander Watts
Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green & J. Andrews, 1827 - 402 pages

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Page 66 - Not there, not there, my child! " Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy! Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy; Dreams cannot picture a world so fair, — Sorrow and death may not enter there ; Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom ; Far beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb — It is there, it is there, my child !
Page 66 - Is it far away, in some region old, Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold, Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand? Is it there, sweet mother! that better land? Not there, not there, my child ! Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Page 388 - Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear In all my griefs a more than equal share ! Here, where no springs in murmurs break away, Or...
Page 321 - Twas twilight, and I bade you go, But still you held me fast; It was the time of roses, We plucked them as we passed!
Page 65 - Not there, not there, my child. Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies, Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds on their starry wings Bear the rich hues of all glorious things ? Not there, not there, my child.
Page 65 - Not there, not there, my child !" " Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds on their starry wings...
Page 67 - LADY. A STAR would be a flower ; So down from heaven it came, And in a honeysuckle bower Lit up its little flame. There on a bank, beneath the shade, By sprays, and leaves, and blossoms made, It overlook'd the garden-ground, — A landscape stretching ten yards round ; O what a change of place From gazing through the...
Page 28 - The meeting sweet that made me thrill, The sweetmeats almost sweeter still, No ' satis' to the 'jams' — When that I was a tiny boy My days and nights were full of joy, My mates were blithe and kind ! No wonder that I sometimes sigh, And dash the tear-drop from my eye, To cast a look behind ! FAIR INES.
Page 92 - Of matchless sand : — I heard the black seas roar, And winds that rose and fell with gusty haste. There was one scathed tree, by storm defaced, Round which the sea-birds wheeled with screaming cry. Ere long came on a traveller, slowly paced ; Now east, then west, he turned with curious eye, Like one perplexed with an uncertainty.
Page 30 - My head's ne'er out of school : My heart is pain'd with scorn and slight, I have too many foes to fight, And friends grown strangely cool ! The very chum that shared my cake Holds out so cold a hand to shake, It makes me shrink and sigh...

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