Voices of the NightE. Moxon, 1843 - 144 pages |
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Page 16
... gentle hand in mine . And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes , Like the stars , so still and saint - like , Looking downward from the skies . Uttered not , yet comprehended , Is the spirit's voiceless prayer , Soft ...
... gentle hand in mine . And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes , Like the stars , so still and saint - like , Looking downward from the skies . Uttered not , yet comprehended , Is the spirit's voiceless prayer , Soft ...
Page 28
... Gentle and low . To the crimson woods he saith , - To the voice gentle and low Of the soft air , like a daughter's breath , — 66 Pray do not mock me so ! Do not laugh at me ! " And now the sweet day is dead ; Cold in his arms it lies ...
... Gentle and low . To the crimson woods he saith , - To the voice gentle and low Of the soft air , like a daughter's breath , — 66 Pray do not mock me so ! Do not laugh at me ! " And now the sweet day is dead ; Cold in his arms it lies ...
Page 37
... gentle wind , a sweet and passionate wooer , Kisses the blushing leaf , and stirs up life . Within the solemn woods of ash deep - crimsoned , And silver beech , and maple yellow - leaved , Where autumn , like a faint old man , sits down ...
... gentle wind , a sweet and passionate wooer , Kisses the blushing leaf , and stirs up life . Within the solemn woods of ash deep - crimsoned , And silver beech , and maple yellow - leaved , Where autumn , like a faint old man , sits down ...
Page 46
... gentle swell , The music of the village bell Came sweetly to the echo - giving hills ; And the wild horn , whose voice the woodland fills , Was ringing to the merry shout , That faint and far the glen sent out , Where , answering to the ...
... gentle swell , The music of the village bell Came sweetly to the echo - giving hills ; And the wild horn , whose voice the woodland fills , Was ringing to the merry shout , That faint and far the glen sent out , Where , answering to the ...
Page 48
... gentle south wind blows ; Where , underneath the white - thorn , in the glade , The wild flowers bloom , or , kissing the soft air , The leaves above their sunny palms outspread . With what a tender and impassioned voice It fills the ...
... gentle south wind blows ; Where , underneath the white - thorn , in the glade , The wild flowers bloom , or , kissing the soft air , The leaves above their sunny palms outspread . With what a tender and impassioned voice It fills the ...
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Common terms and phrases
amid arms autumn battle behold Beware bird Bishop of Avranches blue brave breath bright brooklet calm Castile castled clouds dark dead Death didst doth dreams dwell earth eternal Euroclydon fame fears flowerets flowers forest gentle glide glorious glory golden grave green hand hast heart heaven hills hoary holy hymn Jorge Manrique leaves Life's light of stars linger LOPE DE VEGA Manrique marvellous tale merry step draws MIDNIGHT MASS night Nils Juel noble o'er onward poem prayer PURGATORIO purple finch Reaper red planet Mars rose round shadows sigh silver silver beach smile soft solemn song sorrows soul sound SPANISH spectral camp spirit steeds stern sweet Take thy banner tears tender thine Thither thou art thou dost thy merry step toil trees Uclés Valdepeñas vale virgin train voice warrior wave weary white-thorn wild winds wings Winter witch-hazel woods youth
Popular passages
Page 6 - Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife! Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act, — act in the living...
Page 141 - INTO the Silent Land ! Ah ! who shall lead us thither ? Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand. Who leads us with a gentle hand Thither, O thither, Into the Silent Land...
Page 3 - I felt her presence, by its spell of might, Stoop o'er me from above ; The calm, majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I love. I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, The manifold, soft chimes, That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, Like some old poet's rhymes.
Page 34 - Tis sweet to visit the still wood, where springs The first flower of the plain. I love the season well, When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell The coming-on of storms.
Page 18 - Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous, God hath written in those stars above ; But not less in the bright flowerets under us Stands the revelation of his love. Bright and glorious is that revelation, Written all over this great world of ours ; Making evident our own creation, In these stars of earth, — these golden flowers.
Page 17 - SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
Page 21 - Flowers ; In all places, then, and in all seasons, Flowers expand their light and soul-like wings, Teaching us, by most persuasive reasons, How akin they are to human things. And with childlike, credulous affection We behold their tender buds expand ; Emblems of our own great resurrection, Emblems of the bright and better land.
Page 39 - WHEN winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale, With solemn feet I tread the hill, That overbrows the lonely vale. O'er the bare upland, and away Through the long reach of desert woods, The embracing sunbeams chastely play, And gladden these deep solitudes.
Page 26 - YES, the Year is growing old, And his eye is pale and bleared ! Death, with frosty hand and cold, Plucks the old man by the beard, Sorely, — sorely ! The leaves are falling, falling, ti Solemnly and slow ; "Caw ! caw ! " the rooks are calling, It is a sound of woe, A sound of woe ! Through woods and mountain passes The winds, like anthems, roll ; They are chanting solemn masses, Singing ; " Pray for this poor soul, Pray, — pray...
Page x - Where, the long drooping boughs between, Shadows dark and sunlight sheen Alternate come and go ; Or where the denser grove receives No sunlight from above, But the dark foliage interweaves In one unbroken roof of leaves, Underneath whose sloping eaves The shadows hardly move.