OUR COUSIN VERONICA; OR, Scenes and Adventures over the Blue BIdge.

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الصفحة 218 - That orbed maiden with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn ; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer ; And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, Like a swarm of golden bees...
الصفحة 25 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing...
الصفحة 223 - FORGET not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant ; My great travail so gladly spent, Forget not yet ! Forget not yet when first began The weary life ye know, since whan The suit, the service none tell can ; Forget not yet ! Forget not yet the great assays, The cruel wrong, the scornful ways, The painful patience in delays, Forget not yet ! Forget not ! oh ! forget not this, How long ago hath been, and is The mind that never meant amiss, Forget not yet...
الصفحة 280 - If I did despise the cause of my man-servant or of my maid-servant when they contended with me ; what then shall I do when God riseth up? and when he visiteth, what shall I answer him? Did not he that made me in the womb, make him? and did not one fashion us in the womb?
الصفحة 142 - THE STEAMBOAT SEE how yon flaming herald treads The ridged and rolling waves, As, crashing o'er their crested heads, She bows her surly slaves ! With foam before and fire behind, She rends the clinging sea, That flies before the roaring wind Beneath her hissing lee. The morning spray, like sea-born flowers, With heaped and glistening bells, Falls round her fast, in ringing showers, With every wave that swells ; And, burning o'er the midnight deep, In lurid fringes thrown, The living gems of ocean...
الصفحة 232 - When at a play to laugh, or cry, Yet cannot tell the reason why; Never to hold her tongue a minute, While all she prates has nothing in it ; Whole hours can with a coxcomb sit, And take his nonsense all for wit ; Her learning mounts to read a song, But half the words pronouncing wrong ; • Has every repartee in store She spoke ten thousand times before...
الصفحة 98 - THERE is a change — and I am poor; Your Love hath been, nor long ago, A Fountain at my fond Heart's door, Whose only business was to flow; And flow it did; not taking heed Of its own bounty, or my need.
الصفحة 409 - To cast the fashion of uncertain evils; For, grant they be so, while they rest unknown, What need a man forestall his date of grief, And run to meet what he would most avoid? Or, if they be but false alarms of fear, How bitter is such self-delusion!
الصفحة 213 - With thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up the sod, And spread the furrow for the seed we sow ; This is the field and Acre of our God. This is the place, where human harvests grow ! TO THE RIVER CHARLES.
الصفحة 345 - Nor make our scanty pleasures less By pining at our state : And, even should misfortunes come, I here wha sit, hae met wi...

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