The Literary souvenir; or, Cabinet of poetry and romance, ed. by A.A. Watts

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Alaric Alexander Watts
1833

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Page 54 - A something, light as air — a look, A word unkind or wrongly taken — Oh! love, that tempests never shook, A breath, a touch like this hath shaken.
Page xv - A TROUBLE, not of clouds, or weeping rain, Nor of the setting sun's pathetic light Engendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height: Spirits of Power, assembled there, complain For kindred Power departing from their sight; 5 While Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain, Saddens his voice again, and yet again.
Page 57 - Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, For thy rod and thy staff they comfort me And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Page 37 - Fair scenes for childhood's opening bloom, For sportive youth to stray in ; For manhood to enjoy his strength ; And age to wear away in...
Page 252 - To guide the pious tenor of my lay. The muses (sacred by their gifts divine) In early days did to my wondering sense Their secrets oft reveal : oft my rais'd ear In slumber felt their music : oft at noon Or hour of sunset, by some lonely stream, In field or shady grove, they taught me words Of power from death and envy to preserve The good man's name.
Page 251 - Of ancient Time; and haply, while he scans The ruins, with a silent tear revolves The fame and fortune of imperious Rome. You too, O Nymphs, and your unenvious aid The rural powers confess ; and still prepare For you their choicest treasures. Pan commands, Oft as the Delian king with...
Page 18 - The cloud doth gather, the greenwood roar, The damsel paces along the shore ; The billows they tumble with might, with might ; And she flings out her voice to the darksome night ; Her bosom is swelling with sorrow ; The world it is empty, the heart will die, There's nothing to wish for beneath the sky : Thou Holy One, call thy child away ! I've lived and loved, and that was to-day — Make ready my grave-clothes to-morrow...
Page 102 - As the morning star was fair ; She was clothed in a robe of shadowy light, And veiled by her golden hair. They made me king of the Fairy Isles, That lie in the golden mist, Where the coral rocks and the silvery sand By singing waves are kissed. Far off, in the ocean solitudes They lie, a glorious seven ; Like a beautiful group of sister stars, In the untraced heights of heaven : For the mariner sails them round about, But he comes them not anigh ; They are hid far off, in a secret place Of the sea's...
Page 252 - His footsteps ; and with your unsullied streams His lips will bathe : whether the eternal lore Of Themis, or the majesty of Jove, To mortals he reveal ; or teach his lyre The unenvied guerdon of the patriot's toils, In those unfading islands of the blessed, Where sacred bards abide.
Page 101 - Tis well that ye should hear. I dwelt in a hall of silvery pearl, With rainbow light inlaid ; I sate on a throne, as old as the sea, Of the ruby coral made. The old carbuncle lit the dome, Where I was sworn a king ; And my crown was wrought of the pale sea gold, And so was my fairy ring. And she who was set on my right hand, As the morning star was fair ; She was clothed in a robe of shadowy light. And veiled by her golden hair. They made me king of the Fairy Isles That lie in the golden mist, Where...

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