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The moon of Mahomet
Arose, and it shall set;
The cross leads generations on. Hellas. Line 221.
The golden years return,
All love is sweet,
Prometheus Unbound. Act ii. Sc. 5.
Julian and Maddalo. Line 482.
Most wretched men
Stanzas written in Dejection, near Naples. Stanza 4.
Dull, — oh so dull, so very dull !
Peter Bell the Third. Part cii. xii.
1 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 5.
Music, when soft Voices die.
And such society
Rarely, rarely comest Thou.
Are one. 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.
How wonderful is Death!
Queen Mab. i.
Power, like a desolating pestilence,
1 See Swift, page 292.
Heaven's ebon vault
Queen Mab. 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,
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 Storm.
1 See Coleridge, page 504.
2 Home is home, though it be never so homely, — CLARKE : Paræmiologia, p. 101. (1639.)
JOHN KEBLE. 1792-1866.
The trivial round, the common task,
Would furnish all we ought to ask. Morniny. Why should we faint and fear to live alone,
Since all alone, so Heaven has willed, we die ?
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,
Ay, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod : They have left unstained what there they found, — Freedom to worship God.
Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers. Through the laburnum's dropping gold Rose the light shaft of Orient mould, And Europe's violets, faintly sweet, Purpled the mossbeds at its feet.
The Palm-Tree. They grew in beauty side by side,
They filled one home with glee: Their graves are severed far and wide By mount and stream and sea.
The Graves of a Household. Alas for love, if thou wert all, And naught beyond, O Earth!
Ibid. The boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled;
Leaves have their time to fall,
And stars to set; but all,
The Hour of Death, Come to the sunset tree!
The day is past and gone;
Tyrolese Evening Song. In the busy haunts of men.
Tale of the Secret Tribunal. Part i. Calm on the bosom of thy God, Fair spirit, rest thee now!
Siege of Valencia. Scene ix.