The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Margaret Chandler: With a Memoir of Her Life and Character

Lemuel Howell, 1836 - 180 páginas
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Página 8 - Insatiate archer ! could not one suffice ? Thy shaft flew thrice ; and thrice my peace was slain ; And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had fill'd her horn.
Página 36 - Lucy had (and it was a consolation) clung to the belief that, despite of appearances and his own confession, his past life had not been such as to place him without the pale...
Página 102 - If thou art worn and hard beset With sorrows that thou wouldst forget, If thou wouldst read a lesson that will keep Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, Go to the woods and hills ! — No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.
Página 88 - Whereto thus Adam fatherly displeased. "O execrable son so to aspire Above his brethren, to himself assuming Authority usurped, from God not given; He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl Dominion absolute; that right we hold By his donation; but man over men He made not lord; such title to himself Reserving, human left from human free.
Página 23 - See the wretch that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe and walk again ; The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.
Página 92 - Rachel weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted, because they are not.
Página 64 - THINK of our country's glory, All dimm'd with Afric's tears— Her broad flag stained and gory, With the hoarded guilt of years. Think of the frantic mother, Lamenting for her child, Till falling lashes smother Her cries of anguish wild!
Página 58 - Ye who wear a guarded life, — Ye whose bliss hangs not, like mine, On a tyrant's word or sign, Will ye hear, with careless eye, Of the wild despairing cry Rising up from human hearts, As their latest bliss departs ? Blest ones ! whom no...
Página 80 - She laid her hand upon her heart; her eye flash'd proud and clear, And firmer grew her haughty tread;—" My lord is hidden here ! " And if ye seek to view his form, ye first must tear away, From round his secret dwelling-place these walls of living clay!" They quail'd beneath her haughty glance, they silent turn'd aside, And left her all unharm'd amidst her loveliness and pride!
Página 73 - Thou shalt have fame ! Oh, mockery ! give the reed From storms a shelter — give the drooping vine Something round which its tendrils may entwine — Give the parched flower a rain-drop, and the meed Of love's kind words to woman...

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