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The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
Ode to the West Wind.
A pard-like spirit, beautiful and swift.
xxxii. . Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of eternity.
The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
Beside a pumice isle in Baiæ's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers
Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All
overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them.
Whom mortals call the moon.
And pine for what is not ;
With some pain is fraught;
To a Skylark. Line 86. Kings are like stars, -- they rise and set, they have The worship of the world, but no repose.?
The Cloud. iv.
Hellas. Line 198.
1 See Bacon, page 166.
The moon of Mahomet
Arose, and it shall set;
Hellas. Line 221
The golden years return,
All love is sweet,
Prometheus Unbound. Act ü. Sc. 6.
Julian and Maddalo. Line 483.
Most wretched men
I could lie down like a tired child,
. Stanza 4. Peter was dull; he was at first
Dull, — oh so dull, so very dull
Peler Bell the Third. Part rii. 24 i The pleasure of love is in loving. We are much happier in the passion we feel than in that we inspire. – ROCHEFOUCAULD : Maxim 259.
2 See Butler, page 216.
A lovely lady, garmented in light
The Witch of Atlas. Stanza 6.
Music, when soft Voices die
And such society
Rarely, rarely comest Thors.
To Jane. The keen Stars were twinkling,
Of the night for the morrow,
One Word is too often profaned.
Translation of Calderon's Magico Prodigioso. Scene i.
Queen Mab. é.
A mechanized automaton.
1 See Swift, page 292.
Heaven's ebon vault
Queen Mab. in. Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present."
A Defence of Poetry
J. HOWARD PAYNE. 1792–1852.
'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
An exile from home splendour dazzles in vain,
Home, Sweet Home. (From the opera of " Clari, the
Maid of Milan.")
SEBA SMITH. 1792–1868.
The cold winds swept the mountain-height,
And pathless was the dreary wild,
A mother wandered with her child :
The Snow Store
1 See Coleridge, page 504.
2. Home is home, though it be never so homely. - CLARKE : Paremio logia, p. 101. (1639.)
JOHN KEBLE. 1792–1866.
The trivial round, the common task,
Would furnish all we ought to ask. Morning. Why should we faint and fear to live alone,
Since all alone, so Heaven has willed, we die ? Nor even the tenderest heart, and next our own, Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh.
The Christian Year. Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity.
Burial of the Dead.
FELICIA D. HEMANS. 1794-1835.
The stately homes of England,
How beautiful they stand,
O'er all the pleasant land! The Homes of England.
On a stern and rock-bound coast,
Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers
Bright jewels of the mine,