The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott, Volume 1 |
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angels art thou beauty Behold bends beneath blast bless'd blind blush bosom breast breath bright brow cheek child clouds cold Corn-Law curse dark dead death deeds despair dread dreams e'en earth EBENEZER ELLIOTT eternal eyes fear fire flame flowers flowers of Eden gaze gloom glow grave grief hand Hark hast hate hath hear heard heart heav'n HENRY BRIGHT hollyoaks hope hopeless King kiss'd light live locks of love lone look look'd lyre Mangora moorland morn mother mountains mourn mute ne'er night o'er pain pale poison'd poor pride proud rill Rivelin rocks rose Satraps scorn seem'd Senena sigh silent sire slave sleep smile sorrow soul stream sublime sweet tears thee thine thou art thought throne Timna toil trembling turn'd vale voice wake wave weep wept wild William Waller Wincobank windflower wing Workhouse worm wretch Zillah
Popular passages
Page 43 - imprisonment, I failed not, constantly, when the clock struck four in the morning, to go with a dark lanthorn in my hand, all alone and on foot, from my lodgings in Chancery Lane, at my cousin Young's, to Whitehall, by the entry that went out of King Street into the Bowling Green. There I would go under
Page 103 - a mighty prince. It then excited universal joy and congratulation, as the prelude to the close of a merciless war : it now awakens sober reflections on the instability of empire, the peculiar destiny of the aboriginal race, and the inscrutable decrees of Heaven. The patriotism of the man was then overlooked in the cruelty of the
Page 43 - kept prisoner without speech of any, and in expectation of death; and at last he grew so ill, by the cold and hard marches he had undergone, and being pent up in a room close and small, that the scurvy brought him to death's door. During the time of
Page 335 - V.—Idylls of the King. With an Autotype of the Bust of Mr. Alfred a Photographic Study by Julia M. Cameron. VIII.—The Princess. With an Engraved Frontispiece. IX.—Maud and Enoch Arden. With a Picture of " Maud,
Page 323 - The shroud of souls is riven! Mind, mind alone Is light, and hope, and life, and power! Earth's deepest night, from this bless'd hour, The night of minds is gone ! " The Press !" all lands shall sing ; The Press, the Press we bring, All lands to bless: O pallid Want! O Labour stark! Behold, we bring the second ark ! The Press ! the Press! the Press!
Page 323 - O Labour stark! Behold, we bring the second ark ! The Press ! the Press! the Press! THE EMIGRANT'S FAREWELL. ENGLAND, farewell! we quit thee—never more To drink thy dewy light, or hear the thrush Sing to thy fountain'd vales.
Page 3 - would have bless'd the strand. But, where my poor boy lies I may not lie; I cannot come, with broken heart, to sigh O'er his loved dust, and strew with flowers his turf: His pillow hath no cover but the surf! I may not pour the
Page 292 - widows childless, realms depraved; And Britain's treasures pour'd in seas of gore, Till lords ask alms, and fiercely growl for more ! Yes, when your country is one vast disease, And failing fortunes sadden every door— These, O ye quacks ! these are your remedies; Alms for the rich
Page 103 - and little allowance was made for the natural jealousy of the sovereign, on account of the barbarities of the warrior. Philip, in the progress of the English settlements, foresaw the loss of his territory and the ruin of his tribe, and made one mighty effort to prevent those calamities. Our pity for his misfortunes would be still heightened, if we could