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? 1 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. Mortality.8 I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls, Song. The light of other days is faded, 4 And all their glories past. Song. The heart bowed down by weight of woe Song. Strike for the green graves of your sires! God, and your native land! 1 See Lady Montagu, page 350. 2 Abraham Lincoln was very fond of repeating these lines. 3 From Knox's "Songs of Israel," 1824. 4 See Moore, page 523. Marco Bozzaris. Come to the bridal chamber, Death! Come to the mother's, when she feels The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, Of agony are thine. But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free, Marco Bozzaris. Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word; One of the few, the immortal names, Such graves as his are pilgrim shrines, Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days! None knew thee but to love thee,1 Ibid. Ibid. Burns. On the Death of Joseph Rodman Drake. There is an evening twilight of the heart, 1 See Rogers, page 455. Twilight. They love their land because it is their own, Lord Stafford mines for coal and salt, Connecticut. Alnwick Castle. Ibid. CHARLES WOLFE. 1791-1823. Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, The Burial of Sir John Moore. But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. 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, That thou couldst mortal be. Yet there was round thee such a dawn Of light, ne'er seen before, As fancy never could have drawn, Go, forget me! why should sorrow Go, forget me, and to-morrow Brightly smile and sweetly sing! Sing, Ibid. Ibid. To Mary. Ibid. Go, forget me! HENRY HART MILMAN. 1791-1868. And the cold marble leapt to life a god. The Belvedere Apollo. Too fair to worship, too divine to love. Ibid. CHARLES SPRAGUE. 1791-1875. Lo where the stage, the poor, degraded stage, Curiosity. Through life's dark road his sordid way he wends, Ibid. Behold! in Liberty's unclouded blaze Centennial Ode. Stanza 22. Yes, social friend, I love thee well, Thy clouds all other clouds dispel, To my Cigar. PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 1792-1822. Then black despair, The shadow of a starless night, was thrown The Revolt of Islam. Dedication, Stanza 6. With hue like that when some great painter dips The awful shadow of some unseen Power Canto v. Stanza 23. Hymn to Intellectual Beauty. The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame A pard-like spirit, beautiful and swift. O thou, Adonais. xxx. Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed xxxii. liii. Ode to the West Wind. Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams That orbed maiden with white fire laden, We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Ibid. The Cloud. iv. Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. To a Skylark. Line 86. Kings are like stars, they rise and set, they have The worship of the world, but no repose.1 Hellas. Line 195. 1 See Bacon, page 166. |