The village bridal and other poems. Also, two lectures |
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Page 18
... and Innocence a sweeter bliss . Her father loved her , and often her brow he'd kiss , And feel a thrill of happiness vibrate his heart , Which to his life a sense of duty would impart . He'd promis'd of't , the man who'd risen to his 18.
... and Innocence a sweeter bliss . Her father loved her , and often her brow he'd kiss , And feel a thrill of happiness vibrate his heart , Which to his life a sense of duty would impart . He'd promis'd of't , the man who'd risen to his 18.
Page 19
... happiness , like beauty , visits night and day , Agnes the wife , affectionate and kind and mild , Gives birth to a beautiful and sweetly - temper'd child , And nought seems wanting now within their blest retreat To fill their cup of ...
... happiness , like beauty , visits night and day , Agnes the wife , affectionate and kind and mild , Gives birth to a beautiful and sweetly - temper'd child , And nought seems wanting now within their blest retreat To fill their cup of ...
Page 24
... happiness of all , and still to free His mind from vain regard for rank above the rest , Which robs the soul of that which makes it truly blest . The precept , " Men are Brethren , " in its holy sense , Means not that Wealth or Rank ...
... happiness of all , and still to free His mind from vain regard for rank above the rest , Which robs the soul of that which makes it truly blest . The precept , " Men are Brethren , " in its holy sense , Means not that Wealth or Rank ...
Page 26
... happiness to weary toil , Unfelt in sweetness by the lords that own the soil . She felt a mother's wishes and a mother's fear , For his success and happiness she held most dear ; She told him early love was ever warm and pure , And if ...
... happiness to weary toil , Unfelt in sweetness by the lords that own the soil . She felt a mother's wishes and a mother's fear , For his success and happiness she held most dear ; She told him early love was ever warm and pure , And if ...
Page 28
... happiness , and life as well as gold ! ( The Peasant and his lovely Ellen , tho ' below The Artizans of skill , could still with them bestow Their great contempt for all the shams of Church and State , Which wealth upholds , but which a ...
... happiness , and life as well as gold ! ( The Peasant and his lovely Ellen , tho ' below The Artizans of skill , could still with them bestow Their great contempt for all the shams of Church and State , Which wealth upholds , but which a ...
Common terms and phrases
angel barque beauty behold BIRKENHEAD blest bliss breast breath brother child clouds co-operation dark shadows dear death delight diction divine doth dream e'en earth Edgar Allan Poe Eliza Cook enchanting evanescent faith flowers freedom gaze give glide glorious glowing golden ears happiness hath heart Hertfordshire holy hope human ideal ignorance imagination influence intellectual labour life's live Love's majesty mankind means mind misery moral moral philosophy mother mould mourn mysterious mystic nature Nature's ne'er neath nestling never night nought o'er Poems poet poetic poetic diction Poetry of Feeling poverty pride principle produce Progress Quoth the Raven rapture Redhill reform reign Religion rill serfdom shine slave slavery smiles social soul strife struggle sublime sweet sweetly thee There's music things thou thought thrill thro tion toil truth Virtue's voice waft Whilst Wolverton wonderful youthful
Popular passages
Page 115 - Hear the loud alarum bells, Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire...
Page 114 - Nevermore." "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting: "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Page 114 - thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
Page 114 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, . And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore...
Page 115 - Yet the ear, it fully knows, By the twanging And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows ; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells — Of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells...
Page 112 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.
Page 116 - Go to the raging sea, and say, " Be still !" Bid the wild lawless winds obey thy will ; Preach to the storm, and reason with Despair, But tell not Misery's son that life is fair.
Page 110 - Young stranger, whither wand'rest thou ? Began the rev'rend Sage ! Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain, Or youthful pleasure's rage ? Or, haply, prest with cares and woes, Too soon thou hast began To wander forth, with me, to mourn The miseries of Man.
Page 112 - O death ! the poor man's dearest friend. The kindest and the best ! Welcome the hour my aged limbs Are laid with thee at rest ! The great, the wealthy, fear thy blow, From pomp and pleasure torn ; But, Oh ! a blest relief to those That weary-laden mourn ! A PRAYER, IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH.
Page 115 - Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang and clash and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging, And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows...