O'er mountains bright With snow and light, We Crystal-Hunters speed along; While rocks and caves, And icy wares, Each instant echo to our song; And, when we meet with store of gems,...
"Solemn dances were, on great festivals and celebrations, admitted among the primitive Christians, in which even the Bishops and dignified Clergy were performers. Scaliger says, that the first Bishops were called praesules[2] f...
The dawn is breaking o'er us, See, heaven hath caught its hue! We've day's long light before us, What sport shall we pursue? The hunt o'er hill and lea? The sail o'er summer sea?...
They both were husht, the voice, the chords,-- I heard but once that witching lay; And few the notes, and few the words. My spell-bound memory brought away; ...
But, whither have these gentle ones, These rosy nymphs and black-eyed nuns, With all of Cupid's wild romancing, Led by truant brains a-dancing? Instead of studying tomes scholastic,...
Who has not felt how sadly sweet The dream of home, the dream of home, Steals o'er the heart, too soon to fleet, When far o'er sea or land we roam? Sunlight more soft may o'er us fall,...
Nell ora, credo, che dell'oriente Prima raggio nel monte Citerea, Che di fuoco d'amor par sempre dente, Giovane e bella in sogno mi parea Donna vedere andar per una landa...
The dream of those days when first I sung thee is o'er, Thy triumph hath stained the charm thy sorrows then wore; And even of the light which Hope once shed o'er thy chains,...
Come, May, with all thy flowers, Thy sweetly-scented thorn, Thy cooling evening showers, The fragrant breath at morn: When, May-flies haunt the willow, When May-buds tempt the bee,...
The dawning of morn, the daylight's sinking, The night's long hours still find me thinking Of thee, thee, only thee. When friends are met, and goblets crowned, And smiles are near, that once enchanted,...
"We are told that the bigots are growing old and fast wearing out. If it be so why not let us die in peace?" --LORD BEXLEY'S Letter to the Freeholders of Kent.
Remember'st thou that setting sun, The last I saw with thee, When loud we heard the evening gun Peal o'er the twilight sea? Boom!--the sounds appeared to sweep Far o'er the verge of day, ...
Night waneth fast, the morning star Saddens with light the glimmering sea, Whose waves shall soon to realms afar Waft me from hope, from love, and thee. Coldly the beam from yonder sky...
'Twas on a day When the immortals at their banquet lay; The bowl Sparkled with starry dew, The weeping of those myriad urns of light, Within whose orbs, the Almighty Power,...
Come, maids and youths, for here we sell All wondrous things of earth and air; Whatever wild romancers tell, Or poets sing, or lovers swear, You'll find at this our Fancy Fair. ...