The Vigil of Faith, and Other Poems

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Harper & brothers, 1845 - 158页
 

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第92页 - I'm not romantic, but upon my word, There are some moments when one can't help feeling As if his heart's chords were so strongly stirred By things around him, that 'tis vain concealing A little music in his soul still lingers Whene'er its keys are touched by Nature's fingers.
第42页 - ... and despoiled of all his force ; till finding Anteros at last, he kindles and repairs the 'almost faded ammunition of his deity by the reflection of a coequal and homogeneal fire.
第64页 - mid their revels, by Bacchus were told That his last butt of nectar had somehow run out ! But determined to send round the goblet once more, They sued to the fairer immortals for aid In composing a draught which, till drinking were o'er, Should cast every wine ever drank in the shade. Grave Ceres herself blithely yielded her corn, And the spirit that lives in each amber-hued...
第41页 - Anteros ; whom while he seeks all about, his chance is to meet with many false and feigning desires, that wander singly up and down in his likeness. By them, in their borrowed garb, Love, though not wholly blind, as poets wrong him, yet having but one eye, as being born an archer aiming, and that eye not the quickest in this dark region here below, which is not...
第75页 - O'er heaven and earth, The God who first the day-dawn pour'd, Utter'd again His fiat forth, And shed the Gospel's light abroad; And, like the dawn, its cheering rays On rich and poor were meant to fall, Inspiring their Redeemer's praise In lowly cot and lordly hall.
第61页 - To drink to-night, with hearts as light, To loves as gay and fleeting As bubbles that swim on the beaker's brim. And break on the lips while meeting.
第88页 - HUNTER'S MATIN. UP, comrades, up ! the morn's awake Upon the mountain side, The curlew's wing hath swept the lake, And the deer has left the tangled brake, To drink Irom the limpid tide. Up, comrades, up ! the mead-lark's note And the plover's cry o'er the prairie float, The squirrel he springs from his covert now To prank it away on the chestnut bough, Where the oriole's...
第115页 - YES ! even here, not less than in the crowd, Here, where yon vault in formal sweep seems piled Upon the pines, monotonously proud, Fit dome for fane, within whose hoary veil No ribald voice an echo hath defiled-— Where Silence seems articulate ; up-stealing Like a low anthem's heavenward wail: — Oppressive on my bosom weighs the feeling Of thoughts that language cannot shape aloud...
第41页 - ... garb, Love though not wholly blind, as poets wrong him, yet having but one eye, as being born an archer aiming and that eye not the quickest in this dark region here below, which is not love's proper sphere...
第62页 - ROSALIE CLARE, WHO owns not she's peerless — who calls her not fair — Who questions the beauty of Rosalie Clare ? Let him saddle his courser and spur to the field, And though harness'd in proof, he must perish or yield ; For no gallant can splinter — no charger may dare The lance that is couch'd for young Rosalie Clare.

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