The Complete Works of Henry Kirke White, of Nottingham, Late of St. John's College, Cambridge: With an Account of His Life

Portada
E. Kearny, 1899 - 420 páginas

Dentro del libro

Comentarios de la gente - Escribir un comentario

No encontramos ningún comentario en los lugares habituales.

Páginas seleccionadas

Términos y frases comunes

Pasajes populares

Página 124 - Hark ! hark ! to God the chorus breaks, From every host, from every gem ; But one alone the Saviour speaks, It is the star of Bethlehem.
Página 124 - It was my guide, my light, my all, It bade my dark forebodings cease; And through the storm and danger's thrall, It led me to the port of peace. Now safely moored, my perils o'er, I'll sing, first in night's diadem, For ever and for evermore, The Star, the Star of Bethlehem.
Página 194 - And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart. Keen were his pangs, but keener far to feel He nursed the pinion which...
Página 80 - twill well contain The ideal flights of Madam Brain. No dungeon's walls, no cell confined, Can cramp the energies of mind ! I've friends, and 'twill contain them all ; And should it e'er become so cold That these it will no longer hold, No more may Heaven her blessings give, I shall not then be fit to live. TO AN EARLY PRIMROSE.
Página 28 - O'er Beauty's fall; Her praise resounds no more when mantled in her pall. The most beloved on earth Not long survives to-day; So music past is obsolete, And yet 'twas sweet, 'twas passing sweet, But now 'tis gone away. Thus does the shade In memory fade, When in forsaken tomb the form beloved is laid.
Página 15 - Come, thou shalt form my nosegay now, And I will bind thee round my brow ; And as I twine the mournful wreath, I'll weave a melancholy song: And sweet the strain shall be and long, The melody of death.
Página 27 - Still, rigid Nurse, thou art forgiven, For thou severe wert sent from heaven To wean me from the world ; To turn my eye From vanity, And point to scenes of bliss that never, never die.
Página 33 - ... to Cambridge, he was immediately as much distinguished for his classical knowledge as his genius : but the seeds of death were in him, and the place to which he had so long looked on with hope, served unhappily as a hothouse to ripen them...
Página 174 - Mortals ! be gladsome while ye have the power, And laugh and seize the glittering lapse of joy ; In time the bell will toll That warns ye to your graves.

Información bibliográfica