Book of the Poets: The Modern Poets of the Nineteenth CenturyScott, Webster & Geary, 1842 - 490 pages |
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Page 163
... Beelzebub took all occasions To try Job's constancy , and patience . He took his honour , took his health ; He took his children , took his wealth , His servants , oxen , horses , cows- But cunning Satan did not take his spouse . But ...
... Beelzebub took all occasions To try Job's constancy , and patience . He took his honour , took his health ; He took his children , took his wealth , His servants , oxen , horses , cows- But cunning Satan did not take his spouse . But ...
Page 221
... Beelzebub cries , " Take heed how you wrong me again ! Though your caricatures for myself I despise , Make me handsomer now in the multitude's eyes , Or see if I threaten in vain ! " Now the Painter was bold , and religious beside ...
... Beelzebub cries , " Take heed how you wrong me again ! Though your caricatures for myself I despise , Make me handsomer now in the multitude's eyes , Or see if I threaten in vain ! " Now the Painter was bold , and religious beside ...
Page 222
... Beelzebub grinn'd as he spoke , And stamp'd on the scaffold in ire ; The Painter grew pale , for he knew it no joke , ' Twas a terrible height , and the scaffolding broke- The Devil could wish it no higher . " Help - help me ! O Mary ...
... Beelzebub grinn'd as he spoke , And stamp'd on the scaffold in ire ; The Painter grew pale , for he knew it no joke , ' Twas a terrible height , and the scaffolding broke- The Devil could wish it no higher . " Help - help me ! O Mary ...
Page 223
... , he lies , And a dismal companion is she ! On a sudden he saw the Old Serpent arise , " Now , you villanous dauber ! " Sir Beelzebub cries , " You are paid for your insults to me . " But my tender heart you may easily move If SOUTHEY .
... , he lies , And a dismal companion is she ! On a sudden he saw the Old Serpent arise , " Now , you villanous dauber ! " Sir Beelzebub cries , " You are paid for your insults to me . " But my tender heart you may easily move If SOUTHEY .
Page 224
... Beelzebub lay . He smirks , and he smiles , and he leers with a grace , That the Painter might catch all the charms of his face , Then vanish'd in lightning away . Quoth the Painter , " I trust you'll suspect me no more , Since my ...
... Beelzebub lay . He smirks , and he smiles , and he leers with a grace , That the Painter might catch all the charms of his face , Then vanish'd in lightning away . Quoth the Painter , " I trust you'll suspect me no more , Since my ...
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Book of the Poets: The Modern Poets of the Nineteenth Century (Classic Reprint) No preview available - 2016 |
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art thou beauty behold Belshazzar beneath blood born bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow CATILINE charms cheek child clouds cold CORBOULD Corn Law dark dead death deep delight Donald Macdonald dread dream earth fair fear flowers gaze gentle glory grave green hame hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry Kirke White holy hope hour Isle of Palms JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES king lady land light lips live lone look look'd Lord Lord Byron Lyre maid Martyr of Antioch Melfi morning mountain ne'er never night numbers o'er pale pass'd poem poet poetical poetry pride rose round Samian wine seem'd sigh sight silent sing sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit star stood storm stream sweet tears tempest thee thine thought tree turn'd Twas voice waves weep wild wind wings young youth
Popular passages
Page 111 - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy Soul's immensity ; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, — Mighty Prophet ! Seer blest ! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find...
Page 112 - Nor man nor boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy ! Hence, in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither; Can in a moment travel thither— And see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Page 109 - I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone : The pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat : Whither is fled the visionary gleam ? Where is it now, the glory and the dream...
Page 106 - My brother John and I. And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side.' ' How many are you, then,' said I, * If they two are in heaven ?' Quick was the little Maid's reply,
Page 413 - MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Page 167 - That sometimes from the savage den, And sometimes from the darksome shade, And sometimes starting up at once In green and sunny glade, There came and looked him in the face An angel beautiful and bright, And that he knew it was a fiend...
Page 111 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
Page 168 - Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side, Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm, Fill up the interspersed vacancies And momentary pauses of the thought ! My babe so beautiful ! it thrills my heart With tender gladness, thus to look at thee...
Page 307 - His steps are not upon thy paths, — thy fields Are not a spoil for him, — thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth : — there let him lay.
Page 105 - You run about/ my little maid/ your limbs they are alive ; if two are in the churchyard laid/ then ye are only five." " Their graves are green/ they may be seen/" the little maid replied/ "twelve steps or more from my mother's door/ and they are side by side.