The Literary souvenir; or, Cabinet of poetry and romance, ed. by A.A. Watts. [on large paper].

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Alaric Alexander Watts
1830
 

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Page 123 - Let's take him to the broad green hill ! " in his impotent despair, Said one strong boy: "let's take him off, the hills are wide and fair : I know a little hiding-place, and we will keep him there." Oh vain ! They took the little lamb, and straightway tied him down, With a strong cord they tied him fast, and o'er the common brown, And o'er the hot and flinty roads, they took him to the town. The little children through that day, and throughout all the morrow, From...
Page 317 - AT evening time, let there be light; Life's little day draws near its close ; Around me fall the shades of night, The night of death, the grave's repose ; To crown my joys, to end my woes, At evening time, let there be light.
Page 351 - Fleet are ye as fleetest galley, Or pirate rover sent from Sallee ; Keener than the Tartar's arrow, Sport ye in your sea so narrow. Was the Sun himself your sire ? Were ye born of vital fire ? Or of the shade of golden flowers, Such as we fetch from Eastern bowers, To mock this murky clime of ours...
Page 318 - At evening time there shall be light ! For God hath spoken ; it must be ; Fear, doubt, and anguish take their flight ; His glory now is risen on me ; Mine eyes shall his salvation see ; 'T is evening time, and there is light ! 991.
Page 314 - I never •was a favourite, My mother never smiled On me, with half the tenderness That blessed her fairer child : I've seen her kiss my sister's cheek, While fondled on her knee ; I've turned away, to hide my tears, There was no kiss for me!
Page 315 - I strove to please, with all My little store of sense ; I strove to please, and infancy Can rarely give offence ; But when my artless efforts met A cold, ungentle check, I did not dare to throw myself In tears upon her neck. How blessed are the beautiful ! Love watches o'er their birth ; Oh, beauty ! in my nursery I learned to know thy worth, — For even there I often felt Forsaken and forlorn, And wished — for others wished it too — I never had been born.
Page 54 - Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell : It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with -love's wound, And maidens call it Love-in-idleness.
Page 123 - 'twill buy us food. " Ay, though the children weep all day, And with down-drooping head Each does his small task mournfully, The hungry must be fed ; And that which has a price to bring Must go to buy us bread." It went. Oh, parting has a pang The hardest heart to wring ; But the tender soul of a little child With fervent love doth cling, With love that hath no feignings false, Unto each gentle thing. Therefore...
Page 316 - Her venomed mantle threw : The features, once so beautiful, Now wore the hue of death ; And former friends shrank fearfully From her infectious breath.
Page 251 - You meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes More by your number than your light, You common people of the skies; What are you when the moon shall rise?

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