The moon of Mahomet Arose, and it shall set; While, blazoned as on heaven's immortal noon, The cross leads generations on. The world's great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn. What! alive, and so bold, O earth? Hellas. Line 221. Line 1060. Written on hearing the News of the Death of Napoleon. Given or returned. All love is sweet, Common as light is love, And its familiar voice wearies not ever. They who inspire it most are fortunate, Prometheus Unbound. Act ii. Sc. 5. Those who inflict must suffer, for they see Julian and Maddalo. Line 482. Are cradled into poetry by wrong: They learn in suffering what they teach in song.2 I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear. Line 544. Stanzas written in Dejection, near Naples. Stanza 4. Peter was dull; he was at first Dull, oh so dull, so very dull! Whether he talked, wrote, or rehearsed, Still with this dulness was he cursed! Dull, beyond all conception, dull. Peter Bell the Third. Part vii. 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. Of some world far from ours, Where music and moonlight and feeling Are one. To Jane. The keen Stars were twinkling. Power, like a desolating pestilence, Pollutes whate'er it touches; and obedience, Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame 1 See Swift, page 292. 222. Heaven's ebon vault Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls, To curtain her sleeping world. Queen Mab. iv. Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.1 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, Give me them, and that peace of mind dearer than all. SEBA SMITH. 1792-1868. The cold winds swept the mountain-height, A mother wandered with her child: 1 See Coleridge, page 504. The Snow Storm. 2 Home is home, though it be never so homely - CLARKE: Parœmiologia, p. 101. (1639.) JOHN KEBLE. 1792-1866. The trivial round, the common task, Why should we faint and fear to live alone, Morning. The Christian Year. Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity. Abide with me from morn till eve, Burial of the Dead. Evening. FELICIA D. HEMANS. 1794-1835. The stately homes of England, How beautiful they stand, O'er all the pleasant land! The breaking waves dashed high The Homes of England. On a stern and rock-bound coast, Their giant branches tossed. Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers. What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine, Ibid. 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 They grew in beauty side by side, The Palm-Tree. The Graves of a Household. Alas for love, if thou wert all, The boy stood on the burning deck, Leaves have their time to fall, Ibid. Casabianca. And flowers to wither at the north-wind's breath, And stars to set; but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death! |