The Wreath: A Collection of Poems from Celebrated English Authors |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 19
Page 12
... MOURN . - Burns , " When chill November's surly blast . " O'CONNOR'S CHILD , or the Flower of love lies " Oh ! once the Harp of Innisfail . " 133 134 136 137 bleeding . - Campbell , 141 THE SOLDIER'S DREAM , Campbell . 151 Our bugles ...
... MOURN . - Burns , " When chill November's surly blast . " O'CONNOR'S CHILD , or the Flower of love lies " Oh ! once the Harp of Innisfail . " 133 134 136 137 bleeding . - Campbell , 141 THE SOLDIER'S DREAM , Campbell . 151 Our bugles ...
Page 17
... mourn'd no recreant friend , nor mistress coy , For on his vows the blameless Phoebe smil'd , And her alone he lov'd , and lov'd her from a child . No jealousy their dawn of love o'ercast , Nor blasted were their wedded days with strife ...
... mourn'd no recreant friend , nor mistress coy , For on his vows the blameless Phoebe smil'd , And her alone he lov'd , and lov'd her from a child . No jealousy their dawn of love o'ercast , Nor blasted were their wedded days with strife ...
Page 21
... mourn . " Shall spring to these sad scenes no more return ? " Is yonder wave the sun's eternal bed ? - " Soon shall the orient with new lustre burn , " And spring shall soon her vital influence shed ; " Again attune the grove , again ...
... mourn . " Shall spring to these sad scenes no more return ? " Is yonder wave the sun's eternal bed ? - " Soon shall the orient with new lustre burn , " And spring shall soon her vital influence shed ; " Again attune the grove , again ...
Page 26
... mourns the turtle in sequester'd bower , And shrill lark carols clear from her aerial tour . O Nature , how in every charm supreme ! Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new ! O for the voice and fire of seraphim , To sing thy glories ...
... mourns the turtle in sequester'd bower , And shrill lark carols clear from her aerial tour . O Nature , how in every charm supreme ! Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new ! O for the voice and fire of seraphim , To sing thy glories ...
Page 31
... mourn , And delve for life in Mammon's dirty mine ; Sneak with the scoundrel fox , or grunt with glutton swine . For Edwin , Fate a nobler doom had plann'd ; Song was his favourite and first pursuit . The wild harp rang to his ...
... mourn , And delve for life in Mammon's dirty mine ; Sneak with the scoundrel fox , or grunt with glutton swine . For Edwin , Fate a nobler doom had plann'd ; Song was his favourite and first pursuit . The wild harp rang to his ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
agen bard beam beauty beneath blest bliss blood bloom bosom breast breath call'd calm charms cheer clouds dark death deep dread e'er earth Edwin eternal ev'n eyes fair fame fancy fate fire flame flowers gale gentle gloomy glory grace grave Greece groves hand heart heaven Hermit horror hour Indolence light lonely lov'd love lies bleeding lyre mind moping morn mountains mourn Muse Musidora nature Nature's ne'er never night nursling o'er pain peace Philomela pity pleasure praise pride rage raptures repose rills rise round Rous'd scene seem'd seraph shade shore sigh skies sleep smil'd smile soft song sooth sorrow soul sound spleen Stamp'd storm stream sublime sweet tears tempest thee thine thou thro toil trembling Twas tyrant vale vext virtue voice wandering wave weary ween Whilst wild wings wretch youth
Popular passages
Page 127 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Page 16 - IX. 0 how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! X.
Page 183 - Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. Such is the patriot's boast where'er we roam, His first, best country, ever is at home. And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare, And estimate the blessings which they share, Though patriots flatter, still shall wisdom find An equal portion dealt to all mankind ; As different good, by art or nature given To different nations, makes their blessings even.
Page 185 - Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear, Whose bright succession decks the varied year; Whatever sweets salute the northern sky With vernal lives, that blossom but to die ; These here disporting own the kindred soil, Nor ask luxuriance from the planter's toil ; While sea-born gales their gelid wings expand, To winnow fragrance round the smiling land.
Page 192 - Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her state, With daring aims irregularly great; Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of human kind pass by...
Page 182 - But me, not destined such delights to share, My prime of life in wandering spent and care ; Impell'd, with steps unceasing, to pursue Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view ; That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies ; My fortune leads to traverse realms alone, And find no spot of all the world my own.
Page 136 - FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune, and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn ! Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The rapids are near and the daylight's past.
Page 119 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray ; What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom — is to die.
Page 191 - Heavens ! how unlike their Belgic sires of old ! Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold ; War in each breast, and freedom on each brow. How much unlike the sons of Britain now ! Fir*d at the sound, my genius spreads her wing, And flies where Britain courts the western spring ; Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride, And brighter streams than fam'd Hydaspes glide.
Page 107 - Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round : Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.