The Forest Sanctuary: With Other Poems

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W. Blackwood, 1829 - English poetry - 324 pages

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Page 244 - say, father ! say, If yet my task is done ? " He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. " Speak, father!" once again he cried, " If I may yet be gone ! And" — but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Page 203 - O'er youth's bright locks, and beauty's flowery crown : Yet must thou hear a voice — Restore the dead ! Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee ! — Restore the dead, thou sea ! BRING FLOWERS.
Page 245 - And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on. Upon his brow he felt their breath, And in his waving hair, And looked from that lone post of death In still yet brave despair; And shouted but once more aloud, 'My father! must I stay?
Page 276 - Leaves have their time to fall, 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 ! THE LOST PLEIAD.
Page 243 - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but he had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead.
Page 272 - tis lovely! — childhood's lip and cheek, Mantling beneath its earnest brow of thought, Gaze, — yet what seest thou in those fair, and meek, And fragile things, as but for sunshine wrought ? Thou seest what grief must nurture for the sky, What death must fashion for eternity ! Oh!
Page 246 - With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessings.
Page 275 - Day is for mortal care, Eve, for glad meetings round the joyous hearth, Night, for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer ; But all for thee, thou mightiest of the earth...
Page 91 - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
Page 236 - OH ! ask not, hope thou not too much Of sympathy below ; Few are the hearts whence one same touch Bids the sweet fountains flow : Few — and by still conflicting powers Forbidden here to meet — Such ties would make this life of ours Too fair for aught so fleet.

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