"Sydney's" Letter to the King: And Other Correspondence, Connected with the Reported Exclusion of Lord Byron's Monument from Westminster Abbey

J. Cawthorn, 1828 - 56 pàgines

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Pàgina 17 - Tis time this heart should be unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move : Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love! My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone ; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone...
Pàgina 42 - Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence make A conflict of its elements, and breathe The breath of degradation and of pride, Contending with low wants and lofty will Till our mortality predominates, And men are — what they name not to themselves, And trust not to each other.
Pàgina 49 - But strew his ashes to the wind Whose sword or voice has served mankind — And is he dead, whose glorious mind ' Lifts thine on high ? — To live in hearts we leave behind Is not to die.
Pàgina 18 - The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile. The hope, the fear, the jealous care, The exalted portion of the pain And power of love, I cannot share, But wear the chain. But 'tis not thus — and 'tis not here — Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now, Where glory decks the hero's bier, Or binds his brow.
Pàgina iv - ... in Heaven's sight The sword he draws : What can alone ennoble fight ? A noble cause ! Give that ! and welcome War to brace Her drums ! and rend Heaven's reeking space-! The colours planted face to face, The charging cheer, Though Death's pale horse lead on, the chase Shall still be dear.
Pàgina 19 - Greece, around me see ! The Spartan borne upon his shield Was not more free. Awake ! (not Greece — she is awake !) Awake, my spirit ! Think through whom Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake, And then strike home ! Tread those reviving passions down, Unworthy manhood ! unto thee Indifferent should the smile or frown Of beauty be. If thou...
Pàgina 41 - As clay hath seldom borne; his aspirations Have been beyond the dwellers of the earth, And they have only taught him what we know — That knowledge is not happiness, and science But an exchange of ignorance for that Which is another kind of ignorance.
Pàgina 42 - My mother Earth! And thou fresh breaking Day, and you, ye Mountains, Why are ye beautiful? I cannot love ye. And thou, the bright eye of the universe, That openest over all, and unto all Art a delight— thou shin'st not on my heart.
Pàgina 19 - Seek out — less often sought than found — A soldier's grave, for thee the best; Then look around and choose thy ground, And take thy rest.

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