The Poetical Works and Remains of Henry Kirke White with Life

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Appleton, 1855 - 456 páginas

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Página 239 - Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired ; Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die, that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee ; How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous, sweet, and fair.
Página 239 - 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 232 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired.
Página 113 - Unhappy White ! while life was in its spring,* And thy young muse just waved her joyous wing, The spoiler came ; and all thy promise fair Has sought the grave, to sleep for ever there. Oh ! what a noble heart was here undone, When Science...
Página 243 - Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters, and maketh the clouds his chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the wind.
Página 9 - Then since this world is vain, And volatile, and fleet, Why should I lay up earthly joys, Where rust corrupts, and moth destroys, And cares and sorrows eat ? 'Why fly from ill With anxious skill, When soon this hand will freeze, this throbbing heart be still?
Página 243 - THE Lord descended from above, And bowed the heavens most high; And underneath his feet he cast The darkness of the sky. 2 On cherub and on cherubim, Full royally, he rode ; And on the wings of mighty winds Came flying all abroad.
Página 122 - Twas thine own genius gave the final blow, And helped to plant the wound that laid thee low : So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain, No more through rolling clouds to soar again, Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart, And...
Página 238 - LORD, another day is flown, And we, a lonely band, Are met once more before thy throne, To bless thy fostering hand. And wilt thou bend a listening ear, To praises low as ours ? Thou wilt!
Página 239 - Deep horror then my vitals froze, death-struck, -I ceased the tide to stem; when suddenly a star arose — it was the Star of Bethlehem.

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