The Works of Mrs. Hemans, with a Memoir by Her Sister, and an Essay on Her Genius by Mrs. Sigourney ...

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Lea and Blanchard, 1840

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Page 333 - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! Our virgins dance beneath the shade— I see their glorious black eyes shine; But gazing on each glowing maid, My own the burning tear-drop laves, To think such breasts must suckle slaves. Place me on Sunium's...
Page 122 - 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 141 - Not there; not there, my child.' Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies? Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas. Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds on their starry wings Bear the rich hues of all glorious things? Not there; not there, my child.
Page 62 - Into these glassy eyes put light — be still ! keep down thine ire, Bid these white lips a blessing speak — this earth is not my sire ! Give me back him for whom I strove, for whom my blood was shed,— Thou canst not ? — and a king ! — his dust be mountains on thy head...
Page 59 - midst them stately rode, as a leader in the land; "Now haste, Bernardo, haste! for there, in very truth, is he, The father whom thy faithful heart hath yearned so long to see.
Page 59 - His dark eye flashed, his proud breast heaved, his cheek's hue came and went; He reached that gray-haired chieftain's side, and there, dismounting, bent; A lowly knee to earth he bent, his father's hand he took — What was there in its touch that all his fiery spirit shook ? That hand was cold — a frozen thing — it dropped from his like lead!
Page 187 - Pleasant the wind's low sigh, And the gleaming of the west, And the turf whereon we lie ; When the burden and the heat Of labour's task are o'er, And kindly voices greet The tired one at his door. Come to the sunset tree ! The day is past and gone ; The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done.
Page 61 - Amidst the pale and wildered looks of all the courtier train ; And, with a fierce, o'ermastering grasp, the rearing war-horse led, And sternly set them face to face, — the king before the dead : —
Page 172 - I IN these flowery meads would be : These crystal streams should solace me; To whose harmonious bubbling noise I with my angle would rejoice. Sit here, and see the turtle-dove Court his chaste mate to acts of love; Or on that bank, feel the west wind Breathe health and plenty; please my mind. To see sweet dewdrops kiss these flowers. And then...
Page 112 - The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!

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