The Text is given from Allan Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany, where it first appeared in the tenth edition (1740) in vol. iv. pp. 356-7. Child had not seen this, and gave his text from the eleventh edition of 1750. There is, howe...
Lo, a shadow of horror is risen In Eternity! Unknown, unprolific, Self-clos'd, all-repelling: what demon Hath form'd this abominable void, This soul-shudd'ring vacuum? Some said...
Lo, a shadow of horror is risen In Eternity! Unknown, unprolific, Self-clos'd, all-repelling: what demon Hath form'd this abominable void, This soul-shudd'ring vacuum? Some said...
Fair Ellen Irwin, when she sate Upon the braes of Kirtle, Was lovely as a Grecian maid Adorned with wreaths of myrtle; Young Adam Bruce beside her lay, And there did they beguile the day...
I stand in the blaze of the candle rays, While my merry maidens three Arrange each tress, and loop my dress, And render me fair to see. But oh! for the eyes that never again...
The simple Bard, rough at the rustic plough, Learning his tuneful trade from ev'ry bough; The chanting linnet, or the mellow thrush, Hailing the setting sun, sweet, in the green thorn bush:...
. . . I went the other day To see the birds and beasts they keep enmewed In the London Zoo. One of the first I saw - One of the first I noticed, was an eagle. Ragged, befouled, within his iron bars...
[In spite of Mr. Carlyle's assertion of Schiller's "total deficiency in humor," [12] we think that the following poem suffices to show that he possessed the gift in no ordinary degree, and that if the aims of a genius so essent...
There are here put in juxtaposition three versions in ballad-form of the same story, though fragmentary in the two latter cases, not only because each is good, but to show the possibilities of variation in a popular story. Ther...
A little black thing among the snow: Crying weep, weep, in notes of woe! Where are thy father & mother? say? They are both gone up to the church to pray.
Beside the pounding cataracts Of midnight streams unknown to us 'Tis builded in the leafless tracts And valleys huge of Tartarus. Lurid and lofty and vast it seems; It hath no rounded name that rings,...
They tell us that the Muse is soon to fly hence, Leaving the bowers of song that once were dear, Her robes bequeathing to her sister, Science, The groves of Pindus for the axe to clear. ...
How it came to an end! The meeting afar from the crowd, And the love-looks and laughters unpenned, The parting when much was avowed, How it came to an end!
What human form is this? what form divine? And who are these that gaze upon his face Mild, beautiful, and full of heavenly grace, With whose reflected light the gazers shine?...