Versiculi aliquot Latini |
Other editions - View all
Popular passages
Page 56 - With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away...
Page 60 - Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither; Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.
Page 28 - Death. Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom, A shadow on those features fair and thin ; And softly, from that hushed and darkened room, Two angels issued, where but one went in.
Page 40 - Like a sunny storm o'er the dark green deep. I doubt not the flowers of that garden sweet Rejoiced in the sound of her gentle feet ; I doubt not they felt the spirit that came From her glowing fingers through all their frame.
Page 16 - Though scarce a puny streamlet's speed Claimed homage from a shepherd's reed; Yet was poetic impulse given, By the green hill and clear blue heaven. It was a barren scene, and wild, Where naked cliffs were rudely piled; But ever and anon between Lay velvet tufts of loveliest green; And...
Page 16 - Thus, while I ape the measure wild Of tales that charmed me yet a child, Rude though they be, still with the chime Return the thoughts of early time ; And feelings, roused in life's first day, (}low in the line, and prompt the lay.
Page 24 - TWO angels, one of Life and one of Death, Passed o'er our village as the morning broke ; The dawn was on their faces, and beneath, The sombre houses hearsed with plumes of smoke. Their attitude and aspect were the same, Alike their features and their robes of white ; But one was crowned with amaranth, as with flame, And one with asphodels, like flakes of light.
Page 14 - Had'st thou but lived, though stripp'd of power, A watchman on the lonely tower, Thy thrilling trump had roused the land, When fraud or danger were at hand...
Page 24 - And he who wore the crown of asphodels, Descending, at my door began to knock, And my soul sank within me, as in wells The waters sink before an earthquake's shock.
Page 50 - twas in a crowd — and I thought he would shun me ; He came — I could not breathe, for his eye was upon me ; He spoke — his words were cold, and his smile was unaltered ; I knew how much he felt, for his deep-toned voice falter'd.