Complete Works, Reprinted Entire from the Last English Edition, Volume 2D. Appleton & Company, 1852 |
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Page 9
... feeling , which doth make One conflict of his life . I know thy wrongs , And thine - and thine , -but if within your breasts There is no chord that vibrates to my voice , Then fare ye well . A youth ( coming forward . ) No , no ! say on ...
... feeling , which doth make One conflict of his life . I know thy wrongs , And thine - and thine , -but if within your breasts There is no chord that vibrates to my voice , Then fare ye well . A youth ( coming forward . ) No , no ! say on ...
Page 13
... feel Its breathing influence whilst I look on thee , Who wert its light in life . Yet will we not Make womanish tears our offering on his tomb ; He shall have nobler tribute ! -I must hence , But thou shalt soon hear more . Await the ...
... feel Its breathing influence whilst I look on thee , Who wert its light in life . Yet will we not Make womanish tears our offering on his tomb ; He shall have nobler tribute ! -I must hence , But thou shalt soon hear more . Await the ...
Page 33
... feel Pro . Such horror of our purpose , in thy power Are means that might avert it . Raim . Speak ! oh speak ! Pro . How would those rescued thousands bless thy name , Shouldst thou betray us ! Raim . Father ! I can bear- Ay , proudly ...
... feel Pro . Such horror of our purpose , in thy power Are means that might avert it . Raim . Speak ! oh speak ! Pro . How would those rescued thousands bless thy name , Shouldst thou betray us ! Raim . Father ! I can bear- Ay , proudly ...
Page 41
... feel That death , indeed , is bitter ! Vit . Fare thee well ! Thine eyes so oft , with their insulting smile , Have look'd on man's last pangs , thou shouldst by this , Be perfect how to die ! [ Exit VITTORIA . RAIMOND enters Away , my ...
... feel That death , indeed , is bitter ! Vit . Fare thee well ! Thine eyes so oft , with their insulting smile , Have look'd on man's last pangs , thou shouldst by this , Be perfect how to die ! [ Exit VITTORIA . RAIMOND enters Away , my ...
Page 51
... feel Worthy the generous love which hath not shunn'd To look on death for me ! -My heart hath given Birth to as deep ... feeling of a murderer's presence . -Away ! come down from your tribunal - seat , Put off your robes of state , and ...
... feel Worthy the generous love which hath not shunn'd To look on death for me ! -My heart hath given Birth to as deep ... feeling of a murderer's presence . -Away ! come down from your tribunal - seat , Put off your robes of state , and ...
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Common terms and phrases
art thou beauty bless bowers breast breath breeze bright bright band brow child clouds Conradin dark dead death deep doth dreams dwell E'en earth faint fair farewell father fear flowers gaze gentle glad glance gleam gloom glorious glory glow gone grave grief harp hath haunted heart heaven holy hope hour Joanna Baillie leaves light lone lyre MARGUERITE OF FRANCE midst Montalba mountain mournful night o'er pale pass'd pour'd prayer PROCIDA proud Provençal Raim Raimond Rhine rich rill rose round scene seem'd shadow shed shine Sicilians Sicily silent sing skies sleep smile soft soft eyes solemn song soul sound spirit stars stranger's heart stream strong sunny sweet tears thee thine things thou art Thou hast thought thrilling tomb tone Twas unto voice wandering wave weep whisper wild wind wings woods young
Popular passages
Page 169 - Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Page 519 - Before all temples the upright heart and pure, Instruct me, for thou know'st; thou from the first Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread, Dove-like, sat'st brooding on the vast abyss, And mad'st it pregnant: what in me is dark Illumine; what is low, raise and support...
Page 251 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason.
Page 137 - THE stately homes of England, How beautiful they stand ! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land. The deer across their greensward bound, Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream. The merry homes of England ! Around their hearths by night, What gladsome looks of household love Meet in the ruddy light! There woman's voice flows forth in song, Or .childhood's tale is told, Or lips move tunefully along Some glorious page...
Page 167 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free...
Page 167 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth.
Page 167 - THE breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed ; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Page 168 - What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine. Ay, call it holy ground, — The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God ! Felicia Hemans.
Page 262 - Not there, not there, my child! " Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy ! Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy ; Dreams cannot picture a world so fair — Sorrow and death may not enter there : Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom, For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb, — It is there, it is there, my child!
Page 262 - Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand — Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ? Not there ; not there, my child.