Trials of the Heart

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Longman, Brown, Green and Longmans, 1845 - 447 pagine
 

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Pagina 46 - Lines Written in Early Spring I HEARD a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man. Through primrose tufts, in that green bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes.
Pagina 283 - Thus saith the LORD of hosts, Consider ye, and call for the mourning women, that they may come; and send for cunning women, that they may come : and let them make haste, and take up a wailing for us, that our eyes may run down with tears, and our eyelids gush out with waters.
Pagina 331 - O mother, mother! What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy victory to Rome; But for your son— believe it, O, believe it!— Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, If not most mortal to him.
Pagina 125 - tis certain ; very sure, very sure : death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all ; all shall die.
Pagina 303 - I fetch my life and being From men of royal siege; and my demerits May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune As this that I have reach'd : for know, lago, But that I love the gentle Desdemona, I would not my unhoused free condition Put into circumscription and confine For the sea's worth.
Pagina 288 - Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vex'd, a sea nourish 'd with lovers
Pagina 345 - One fatal remembrance, one sorrow that throws Its bleak shade alike o'er our joys and our woes. To which life nothing darker or brighter can bring, For which joy has no balm and affliction no sting...
Pagina 342 - I saw him stand Before an Altar— with a gentle bride; Her face was fair, but was not that which made The Starlight of his Boyhood;— as he stood Even at the Altar, o'er his brow there came The self-same aspect, and the quivering shock That in the antique Oratory shook His bosom in its solitude; and then— As in that hour— a moment o'er his face The tablet of unutterable thoughts Was traced,— and then it faded as...
Pagina 3 - These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume...

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