« AnteriorContinuar »
- KNOX. — BUNN. - HALLECK.
The best of prophets of the future is the past.
Letter, Jan. 28, 1821. What say you to such a supper with such a woman?
Note to a Letter on Bowles's Strictures.
WILLIAM KNOX. 1789-1825.
Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
ALFRED BUNN. 1790-1860.
I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,
The light of other days is faded,
The heart bowed down by weight of woe
FITZ-GREENE HALLECK. 1790-1867.
Strike-for your altars and your fires!
God, and your native land!
1 See Lady Montagu, page 350.
2 Abraham Lincoln was very fond of repeating these lines.
8 From Knox's "Songs of Israel," 1824.
4 See Moore, page 523.
sires! Marco Bozzaris.
Come to the bridal chamber, Death!
Come to the mother's, when she feels
The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier,
But to the hero, when his sword
The thanks of millions yet to be.
One of the few, the immortal names,
Such graves as his are pilgrim shrines,
Green be the turf above thee,
1 See Rogers, page 455.
There is an evening twilight of the heart,
On the Death of Joseph Rodman Drake.
They love their land because it is their own,
And scorn to give aught other reason why; Would shake hands with a king upon his throne, And think it kindness to his Majesty.
This bank-note world.
Lord Stafford mines for coal and salt,
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
Slowly and sadly we laid him down,
From the field of his fame fresh and gory;
If I had thought thou couldst have died,
But I forgot, when by thy side,
Yet there was round thee such a dawn
As fancy never could have drawn,
The Burial of Sir John Moore.
Go, forget me! why should sorrow
Brightly smile and sweetly sing!
Go, forget me!
HENRY HART MILMAN. 1791-1868.
And the cold marble leapt to life a god.
The Belvedere Apollo.
CHARLES SPRAGUE. 1791-1875.
Lo where the stage, the poor, degraded stage,
Behold! in Liberty's unclouded blaze
Through life's dark road his sordid way he wends,
Yes, social friend, I love thee well,
Centennial Ode. Stanza 22.
The awful shadow of some unseen Power
To my Cigar.
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 1792-1822.
The Revolt of Islam. Dedication, Stanza 6.
Canto v. Stanza 23.
Hymn to Intellectual Beauty.
The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
A pard-like spirit, beautiful and swift.
Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
Quivering within the wave's intenser day,
We look before and after,
And pine for what is not;
That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
Ode to the West Wind.
Kings are like stars, they rise and set, they have
1 See Bacon, page 166.
The Cloud. iv.
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. To a Skylark. Line 86.
Hellas. Line 195.