The Poetical Melange

Portada
G. A. Douglas, 1828

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Contenido

To a Taper H K White 232
32
Uncertainty of Life Anon 253
47
How sweet it is in twilight shade
48
Lines on the blank leaf of a Bible Byron
49
The Flight of Faith Moore 100
52
C Lloyd
56
Though the heart that sorrow chideth
65
The Grave of Napoleon Hulbert
66
Virtue Herbert
92
A Fragment Byron
94
Smile through thy Tears Thomas Lyle 205
100
Behold a meeting scene
124
The Home Fever d B P 6
132
A Fragment Coleridge
134
Beneath our feet and oer our head 157
141
Oh shame to thee land of the Gaul 249
155
Page
156
A Funeral Hymn
157
Brightest and best of the sons of the morning 228
160
Lovest thou me ? Courpper
166
By others blest with genius rays
169
How wild and dim this life appears 197
173
On the Death of a Clergyman Anon
176
Address to the Mummy Anon 236
183
Sonnet vries H G B ó
185
On the Death of an Infant Miss Jane Taylor
186
The Mother Campbell
187
How still the morning of the hallowed day
189
Sonnet the Cottagers Child Alastor 253
193
Bashfulness Cowper 244
197
He never smiled again Mrs Hemans 40
199
The Mothers Lament Barton 130
200
Light out of Darkness Bowdler
208
Time speeds awayawayaway
216
On came the whirlwindlike the last 23
221
Contentment Cowper 159
226
What is Life? Clare
230
Tis midnight on the globe dead slumber sits
232
Child of the dust I heard thee mourn 83
240
Napoleons Farewell Byron 24
241
How strange is the course that a Christian must steer
244
VOLUME SECOND
ix
saw an aged beggar in my walk
xii
What is Time ? Rev J Marsden 10
10
A Comparison Anon 205
11
Hope in the Resurrection H K White 13
13
Address to the Ocean Byron 19
19
Decisive charge at Waterloo Sir W Scott
23
Stanzas Willian Anderson 54
34
Stanzas on a Lady J Malcolm Esg 43
43
Rogers 1 155
50
Stanzas written by the Sea Shore Alastor 156
51
Address to Deity Barbauld 77
56
Beauty William Anderson 222
116
Invitation to the Young Doddridge ve 128
128
On the Death of King George III Dunette 132
132
The Dead written in a Churchyard W D i 11
136
Italy Anon 113
142
On the Death of the Authors Son John Scott Esq 218
143
Lines on the Death of a Favourite Child Anon Hie 194
145
Goldsmith 156
156
Comfort under affliction Grant i
157
would but cannot sing
162
had a dream which was not all a dream 164
164
Monimia R Allan 135
173
189
174
In evil long I took delight
181
The Birth of Jesus J B 232
186
Lo at the couch where infant beauty sleeps
187
Ode Mrs Hunter
195
Oh Banquet not Moore 102
201
Dirge of Alaric the Visigoth Professor Everitt 73
223
Man like a flower at morn appears
253
Lines written on the first leaf of a Ladys
8
On receiving Intelligence of a young
12
Character of Woman i Barbauld 26
26
Conjugal Affection Opie 33
33
Love
42
Dreams Anon 46
46
Value of the Scriptures Couperó 48
48
You remember Ellen our hamlets pride
53
14
58
Victory in Death Kelly 96
84
Evening Thoughts on Death Bowring 5
98
Ive seen the lovely garden flowers
105
Martyrdom of Louis XVI Croly Mon 242
117
On a Youthful Beauty Rev C Wolfe 194
126
Monody on R B Sheridan Byronvol 1389
128
On leaving Newstead Abbey Byron 13
140
The Martyred Missionary Anon 63
142
Croly 75
151
The Messenger Bird Mrs Hemans 170
170
179
179
Mark yon old mansion frowning through the trees 180
180
Extract from Mournful Recollections Thomas Bayly 181
181
Dramatic Sketch Alastor
186
Farewell Miss L E Landon 198
198
Written under bodily Afiction Anon 203
203
My father is dead and my mother is dead
207
On hearing an Officer swear exiempore Rev Dr Erskine 219
219
Greece
228
On the approach of Death i H K White
229
Elegiac Stanzas Byron 156
231
On the Death
232
247
247

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Página 131 - ALL thoughts,' all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve...
Página 24 - Tis now become a history little known, That once we call'd the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced.
Página 85 - The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse : Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires'
Página 222 - Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it, Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my Thought, Yea, with my Life and Life's own secret joy: Till the dilating Soul, enrapt, transfused, Into the mighty vision passing — there As in her natural form, swelled vast to Heaven.
Página 85 - I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earned.
Página 37 - Then shook the hills with thunder riven, Then rushed the steed to battle driven, And louder than the bolts of heaven Far flashed the red artillery. But redder yet that light shall glow On Linden's hills of stained snow, And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulph'rous canopy.
Página 166 - Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings.
Página 37 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Página 62 - If aught should tempt my soul to stray From heavenly wisdom's narrow way ; To fly the good I would pursue, Or do the sin I would not do ; Still He, who felt temptation's power, Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.
Página 22 - THAT those lips had language ! Life has passed With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same, that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away...

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