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amid angel-wing arms babe beautiful blessing blest bosom bowed bower breast breath Bridgewater Treatises bright brow character cheek Christian cold dark dead death deep didst dost doth dream drooping earth fair faith farewell fearful flowers frown Gazette glorious glow grace grave hallowed hand HANNAH ADAMS harp HARVARD COLLEGE hast hath heart Heaven holy hope infant JAMES HALL JOHN GALT Key & Biddle king lone lyre Man's meek Methinks mother mournful neath o'er pale pang Perchance pomp praise prayer pride proud rest robe rose round scenes shade sigh silent skies sleep smile song soul spirit spread stern stream sublime sweet swell tears tempest tender thee thine Thomas Dick thou thought throng tide TIMOTHY FLINT toil tomb tone trembling Twas vale voice volume wave weary weeping wild wing wrath young ZAREPHATH
Popular passages
Page v - I expect neither profit nor general fame by my writings; and I consider myself as having been amply repaid without either. Poetry has been to me its own " exceeding great reward ; " it has soothed my afflictions ; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments ; it has endeared solitude ; and it has given me the habit of wishing to discover the Good and the Beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me...
Page 138 - With blessings on thy head ; Fresh roses in thy hand, Buds on thy pillow laid, Haste from this fearful land, Where flowers so quickly fade.
Page 24 - SOLITUDE. DEEP Solitude I sought. There was a dell Where woven shades shut out the eye of day, While, towering near, the rugged mountains made Dark back-ground 'gainst the sky. Thither I went, And hade my spirit taste that lonely fount, For which it long had thirsted 'mid the strife And fever of the world.
Page 262 - Amid the flowers, or on the summer wave, Then fleet, like the ephemeron, away, Building no temple in her children's hearts, Save to the vanity and pride of life Which she had worshipped.
Page 103 - WHAT SAID THE EYE ? — The marble lip spake not, Save in that quivering sob with which stern Death Doth crush life's harp-strings. — Lo, again it pours A tide of more than uttered eloquence ! — " Son ! — look upon thy mother !" — and retires Beneath the curtain of the drooping lids, To hide itself forever.
Page 262 - Sternly of man's neglect. But now we come To do thee homage — mother of our chief! Fit homage — such as honoreth him who pays. Methinks we see thee — as in olden time — Simple in garb — majestic and serene, Unmoved by pomp or circumstance — in truth Inflexible, and with a Spartan zeal Repressing vice and making folly grave.
Page 168 - Ye build — ye build — but ye enter not in, Like the tribes whom the desert devoured in their sin : From the land of promise ye fade and die, Ere its verdure gleams forth on your weary eye ; As the kings of the cloud-crowned pyramid, Their noteless bones in oblivion hid, Ye slumber unmarked 'mid the desolate main, While the wonder and pride of your works remain.
Page 168 - And why need ye sow the floods with death ? With mouldering bones the deeps are white, From the ice-clad pole to the tropics bright ; — The mermaid hath twisted her fingers cold With the mesh of the sea-boy's curls of gold, And the gods of ocean have frowned to see The mariner's bed in their halls of glee ; Hath earth no graves, that ye thus must spread The boundless sea for the thronging dead ? Ye build, — ye build,— but ye enter not in, Like the tribes whom the desert devoured in their sin...