The Poems of the Hon. Mrs. NortonLeavitt & Allen, 1856 - 284 pages |
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POEMS OF THE HON MRS NORTON W/ Caroline Sheridan 1808-1877 Norton,Rufus W. (Rufus Wilmot) 1815 Griswold No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
art thou beauty beneath bitter blue breast breath breeze bright bright eye brow careless cheek cheer child cold dark dear death didst dost doth dream dwell earth echo eyes face faded faint faintly fair fame feel floating flowers fond gaze gentle gleams glory glow gone grace grave grief grieving hand happy happy days hath haunt Heaven holy hope hopes and fears hour laburnum life's light lips little rosy lonely look look'd Love's mirth mother mournful murmuring neath o'er pain pale pass'd prayer proud rest rill round seem'd shadow sigh silent smile soft song SONNET sorrow soul sound spirit summer sunny sweet tears thee thine thou art thought thro thy dream thy heart Twas vainly vex'd vision voice wake wandering watch wave weary weep wert wild wind wings words XERXES young youth
Popular passages
Page 202 - My spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung, The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green, My youth is past, and yet I am but young, I saw the world, and yet I was not seen. My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun ; And now I live, and now my life is done...
Page 189 - I'll pause, and sadly think, It was here he bowed his glossy neck when last I saw him drink : — When last I saw thee drink? .... Away! the fevered dream is o'er, I could not live a day, and know that we should meet no more. They tempted me, my beautiful ! for hunger's power is strong, — They tempted me, my beautiful ! but I have loved too long.
Page 189 - Away! the fevered dream is o'er! I could not live a day, and know that we should meet no more; They tempted me, my beautiful! for hunger's power is strong — They tempted me, my beautiful! but I have loved too long. Who said that I had given thee up? Who said that thou wert sold? 'Tis false! 'tis false! my Arab steed ! I fling them back their gold ! Thus — thus, I leap upon thy back, and scour the distant plains! Away ! who overtakes us now shall claim thee for his pains.
Page 202 - I saw the world and yet I was not seen; My thread is cut and yet it is not spun, And now I live, and now my life is done. I sought my death and found it in my womb, I looked for life and saw it was a shade, I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb, And now I die, and now I was but made; My glass is full, and now my glass is run, And now I live, and now my life is done.
Page 188 - I behold that dark eye glancing bright — Only in sleep shall hear again that step so firm and light ; And when I raise my dreaming arm to check or cheer thy speed, Then must I starting wake to feel thou'rt sold, my Arab steed...
Page 179 - The bleak wind whistles: snow-showers far and near Drift without echo to the whitening ground; Autumn hath passed away, and, cold and drear, Winter stalks on with frozen mantle bound: Yet still that prayer ascends. 'Oh! laughingly...
Page 176 - WEEP not for him that dieth — For he sleeps, and is at rest; And the couch whereon he lieth Is the green earth's quiet breast...
Page 22 - Goes by unheeded as the summer wind, And leaves no memory and no trace behind ! Yet, it may be, more lofty courage dwells In one meek heart which braves an adverse fate, Than his, whose ardent soul indignant swells Warm'd by the fight, or cheer'd through high debate : The Soldier dies surrounded; — could he live Alone to suffer, and alone to strive ? Answer, ye graves, whose suicidal gloom Shows deeper horror than a common tomb ! Who sleep within ? The men who would evade An unseen lot of which...
Page 11 - But clung the closer when I stood forlorn, And blunted Slander's dart with their indignant scorn. For they who credit crime are they who feel Their own hearts weak to unresisted sin; Memory, not judgment, prompts the thoughts which steal O'er minds like these, an easy faith to win ; And tales of broken truth are still believed Most readily by those who have themselves deceived.
Page 193 - And lulling winds are murmuring through the wood, Which skirts the bright bay with its fringe of green. Come forth ! All motion is so gentle now, It seems thy step alone should walk the earth, — Thy voice alone, the ' ever soft and low,' Wake the far-haunting echoes into birth. Too wild would be Love's passionate store of hope, Unmeet the influence of his changeful power, — Ours be companionship, whose gentle scope Hath charm enough for such a tranquil hour.