The league of the Alps, The siege of Valencia, The vespers of Palermo, and other poemsHilliard, Gray, Little, and Wilkins, 1826 |
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Página 8
... those men in Heaven's majestic face ; — To guard free hearths they rose , the sons of toil , The hunter of the rocks , the tiller of the soil . VIII . O'er their low pastoral valleys might the tide 8 LEAGUE OF THE ALPS .
... those men in Heaven's majestic face ; — To guard free hearths they rose , the sons of toil , The hunter of the rocks , the tiller of the soil . VIII . O'er their low pastoral valleys might the tide 8 LEAGUE OF THE ALPS .
Página 33
... face , To have felt the spell of thy breezy grace , To have linger'd before thee , and turn'd , and borne One vision away of the cloudless morn . THE CHILD'S LAST SLEEP . ON A MONUMENT BY CHANTREY THE CHILD AND DOVE . 33.
... face , To have felt the spell of thy breezy grace , To have linger'd before thee , and turn'd , and borne One vision away of the cloudless morn . THE CHILD'S LAST SLEEP . ON A MONUMENT BY CHANTREY THE CHILD AND DOVE . 33.
Página 36
... face , Which bends to meet its lip in laughing grace.— Yet that bright lady's eye methinks hath less Of deep , and still , and pensive tenderness , Than might beseem a mother's - on her brow Something too much there sits of native scorn ...
... face , Which bends to meet its lip in laughing grace.— Yet that bright lady's eye methinks hath less Of deep , and still , and pensive tenderness , Than might beseem a mother's - on her brow Something too much there sits of native scorn ...
Página 58
... face above , the face was of the dead- A plume wav'd o'er the noble brow - the brow was fix'd and white- He met at last his father's eyes - but in them was no sight ! Up from the ground he sprang and gaz'd - but who could paint that ...
... face above , the face was of the dead- A plume wav'd o'er the noble brow - the brow was fix'd and white- He met at last his father's eyes - but in them was no sight ! Up from the ground he sprang and gaz'd - but who could paint that ...
Página 60
... face to face - the king before the dead- " Came I not forth upon thy pledge , my father's hand to kiss ? -Be still , and gaze thou on , false king ! and tell me what is this ? The voice , the glance , the heart I sought 60 BERNARDO DEL ...
... face to face - the king before the dead- " Came I not forth upon thy pledge , my father's hand to kiss ? -Be still , and gaze thou on , false king ! and tell me what is this ? The voice , the glance , the heart I sought 60 BERNARDO DEL ...
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Términos y frases comunes
ABDULLAH ALPHONSO ANSELMO arms art thou aught banner bear beneath BERNARDO DEL CARPIO blood brave breast breath breeze bright brow burst call'd Castile CITIZEN clouds Conradin CONSTANCE Couci dark dead death deep doth dreams e'en earth ELMINA ERIBERT Ev'n Exeunt Exit fair father fearful flowers gaze glorious glory gone GONZALEZ GUIDO hast thou hath hear heard heart Heaven HERNANDEZ hope hour joyous know'st land light lone look look'd midst MONTALBA Moorish ne'er night noble o'er pale pass'd pour'd PROCIDA proud Provençal RAIMOND rest Roncesvalles round SCENE scorn seem'd shalt shouldst shrink SICILIANS Sicily silent sleep slumber smile song soul sound Spain speak spirit strong sweet sword tell thee thine things thou art thou hast Thou wouldst thought trumpets Twas unto Valencia VITTORIA voice wave wild wilt winds wouldst thou XIMENA youth ΧΙΜΕΝΑ
Pasajes populares
Página 26 - Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came: Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame; Not as the flying come, In silence and in fear — They shook the depths of the desert's gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer. Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free!
Página 128 - The flame that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm — A creature of heroic blood, A proud though childlike form. The flames rolled on. He would not go Without his father's word ; That father, faint in death below, His voice no longer heard. He call'd aloud : — " Say, father ! say If yet my task is done ! " He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. " Speak, father !" once again he cried,
Página 27 - What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine. Ay, call it holy ground, — The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God ! Felicia Hemans.
Página 25 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Página 129 - The boy — oh ! where was he ? — Ask of the winds that far around With fragments strewed the sea ! With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, '-,.< That well had borne their part — But the noblest thing that perished there Was that young faithful heart.
Página 83 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set, but all — Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death...
Página 145 - Though fresh within your breasts th' untroubled springs Of Hope make melody where'er ye tread, And o'er your sleep bright shadows, from the wings Of spirits visiting but youth, be spread; Yet in those flute-like voices, mingling low, Is woman's tenderness — how soon her...
Página 61 - 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!
Página 59 - Father!" at length he murmured low — and wept like childhood then— Talk not of grief till thou hast seen the tears of warlike men ! — He thought on all his glorious hopes, and all his young renown — He flung his falchion from his side, and in the dust sat down. Then covering with his steel-gloved hands his darkly mournful brow,
Página 41 - HOW could Fancy crown with thee In ancient days the God of Wine, And bid thee at the banquet be Companion of the vine? Thy home, wild plant, is where each sound Of revelry hath long been o'er, Where song's full notes once peal'd around, But now are heard no more.