Pocahontas, Princess of Virginia: And Other Poems

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Dean & Trevett, 1841 - 108 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 88 - Beyond the flight of time, Beyond the reign of death, There surely is some blessed clime Where life is not a breath. Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward and expire.
Pàgina 1 - The beings of the mind are not of clay; Essentially immortal, they create And multiply in us a brighter ray And more beloved existence : that which Fate Prohibits to dull life, in this our state Of mortal bondage, by these spirits supplied, First exiles, then replaces what we hate ; Watering the heart whose early flowers have died, And with a fresher growth replenishing the void.
Pàgina 46 - We saw her proud flag struck that morn — A star once o'er the seas, — Her anchor gone, her deck uptorn, And sadder things than these...
Pàgina 56 - We cannot but add, that of this lordly palace, where princes feasted and heroes fought, now in the bloody earnest of storm and siege, and now in the games of chivalry, where beauty dealt the prize which valour won, all is now desolate.
Pàgina 10 - And strangers took the kinsman's place At many a joyous board; Graves, which true love had bathed with tears, Were left to heaven's bright rain, Fresh hopes were born for other years — He never smiled again!
Pàgina 86 - Who have said, With our tongue will we prevail; our lips are our own: who is lord over us?
Pàgina 13 - Soft, as the memory of buried love ; Pure, as the prayer which Childhood wafts above; Was she — the daughter of that rude old Chief, Who met the maid with tears — but not of grief.
Pàgina 48 - Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Pàgina 83 - Parent of thousand wild desires, The savage and the human breast Torments alike with raging fires; With bright, but oft destructive, gleam, Alike o'er all his lightnings fly ; Thy lambent glories only beam Around the fav'rites of the sky.
Pàgina 56 - ... won, all is now desolate. The bed of the lake is but a rushy swamp ; and the massive ruins of the Castle only serve to show what their splendour once was, and to impress on the musing visitor the transitory value of human possessions, and the happiness of those who enjoy a humble lot in virtuous contentment.

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