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Showing: 71-80 results of 483

THE piping of our slender, peaceful reedsWhispers uncared for while the trumpets bray;Song is thin air; our hearts' exulting playBeats time but to the tread of marching deeds,Following the mighty van that Freedom leads,Her glorious standard flaming to the day!The crimsoned pavement where a hero bleedsBreathes nobler lessons than the poet's lay.Strong arms, broad breasts, brave hearts, are better worthThan strains that sing the ravished echoes... more...

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. ON THE MORNING OF CHRISTS NATIVITY.Compos'd 1629.IThis is the Month, and this the happy mornWherin the Son of Heav'ns eternal King,Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born,Our great redemption from above did bring;For so the holy sages once did sing,That he our deadly forfeit should release,And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.IIThat glorious Form, that Light unsufferable,And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty,Wherwith... more...

THE RUINES OF TIME. DEDICATED TO THE RIGHT NOBLE AND BEAUTIFULL LADIE, THE LA: MARIE, COUNTESSE OF PEMEBROOKE. Most honourable and bountifull Ladie, there bee long sithens deepe sowed in my brest the seede of most entire love and humble affection unto that most brave knight, your noble brother deceased; which, taking roote, began in his life time somewhat to bud forth, and to shew themselves to him, as then in the weakenes of their first... more...

PREFACE. In this, the third series of Breakfast-Table conversations, a slight dramatic background shows off a few talkers and writers, aided by certain silent supernumeraries. The machinery is much like that of the two preceding series. Some of the characters must seem like old acquaintances to those who have read the former papers. As I read these over for the first time for a number of years, I notice one character; presenting a class of... more...

POEMS OF THE THIRD PERIOD. THE MEETING.I see her still—by her fair train surrounded,The fairest of them all, she took her place;Afar I stood, by her bright charms confounded,For, oh! they dazzled with their heavenly grace.With awe my soul was filled—with bliss unbounded,While gazing on her softly radiant face;But soon, as if up-borne on wings of fire,My fingers 'gan to sweep the sounding lyre.The thoughts that rushed across me in... more...


SUPPRESSED POEMS. THE JOURNALISTS AND MINOS.I chanced the other eve,—But how I ne'er will tell,—The paper to receive.That's published down in hell.In general one may guess,I little care to seeThis free-corps of the pressGot up so easily;But suddenly my eyesA side-note chanced to meet,And fancy my surpriseAt reading in the sheet:—"For twenty weary springs"(The post from Erebus,Remark me, always bringsUnpleasant news to... more...

THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. She comes, she comes—the burden of the deeps!Beneath her wails the universal sea!With clanking chains and a new god, she sweeps,And with a thousand thunders, unto thee!The ocean-castles and the floating hosts—Ne'er on their like looked the wild water!—WellMay man the monster name "Invincible."O'er shuddering waves she gathers to thy coasts!The horror that she spreads can claimJust title to her haughty... more...

POEMS OF THE FIRST PERIOD. HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.[This and the following poem are, with some alterations, introducedin the Play of "The Robbers."]ANDROMACHE.Will Hector leave me for the fatal plain,Where, fierce with vengeance for Patroclus slain,Stalks Peleus' ruthless son?Who, when thou glid'st amid the dark abodes,To hurl the spear and to revere the gods,Shall teach thine orphan one?HECTOR.Woman and wife beloved—cease thy tears;My soul... more...

INTRODUCTION Dr. Johnson, in his "Life of Swift," after citing with approval Delany's character of him, as he describes him to Lord Orrery, proceeds to say: "In the poetical works there is not much upon which the critic can exercise his powers. They are often humorous, almost always light, and have the qualities which recommend such compositions, easiness and gaiety. They are, for the most part, what their author intended. The diction is... more...

THE AFTER-ECHO How long the echoes love to play  Around the shore of silence, as a wave  Retreating circles down the sand!  One after one, with sweet delay,The mellow sounds that cliff and island gave,  Have lingered in the crescent bay,  Until, by lightest breezes fanned,They float far off beyond the dying day      And leave it still as... more...