The Complete Poetical Works of the Late Miss Lucy Hooper

Fanshaw, 1848 - 402 páginas

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Página 28 - And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine; A being, breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller between life and death ; The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength and skill; A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort; and command. And yet a spirit, still and bright With something of an angel light.
Página 28 - A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet ; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food ; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Página 251 - 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...
Página 37 - Epitaph on Elizabeth, LH Wouldst thou hear what man can say In a little? Reader, stay. Underneath this stone doth lie As much beauty as could die; Which in life did harbor give To more virtue than doth live. If at all she had a fault Leave it buried in this vault. One name was Elizabeth, Th' other, let it sleep with death; Fitter, where it died, to tell, Than that it lived at all.
Página 202 - Through a dim world, untouch'd by living death ; A cheerful watcher through the spirit's night, Soothing the grief from which she may not flee; — A herald of glad news — a seraph bright, Pointing to sheltering havens yet to be. Yea, Faith and Time, and thou that through the hour Of the lone night hast nerved the feeble hand, Kindled the weary heart with sudden fire, Gifted the drooping soul with living power, Immortal Energy...
Página 33 - Farewell ! A little time, and we Who knew thee well, and loved thee here, One after one shall follow thee, As pilgrims through the gate of fear, Which opens on eternity.
Página 201 - Breathe to thy soul their high, mysterious sound, And faint not in the noontide of thy day, — Wait thou for Time ! Wait thou for Time — the slow-unfolding flower Chides man's impatient haste with long delay ; The harvest ripening in the autumnal sun — The golden fruit of suffering's weighty power Within the soul — like soft bells...
Página 205 - We would lift up each thought from this earth-shaded light, To the regions above, where there stealeth no blight; And with Faith's chosen shield by no dark tempests riven, We would gaze from earth's storms on the brightness of heaven!
Página 204 - Give me armour of proof — I have torn from my heart Each soft tie and true that forbade me to part : Bring the sword of Damascus, its blade cold and bright; That...
Página 176 - Wo for the trusting hour ! Oh kingly stag ! no hand hath brought thee down ; 'Twas with a patriot's heart, Where fear usurped no part, Thou...

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