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amid ARAUCANS Banquo behold beneath Berwick-upon-Tweed blast bless blood breast Bristol brow busy Bee calm cheek cheerful child cold curse dark dear death deed deep Delia's delight didst dread earth fair father fear feel Fleance gale gaze glory grave groan happy Hark hast hath hear heard heart heaven honest hope hour Jack Straw John Ball justice Keswick king labor Lord Malaca midnight morning musing never night o'er oppressed peace Penates Piers poor praise prayer pride random eye rest Robert Southey round scene shore sigh silent slave sleep smile song SONNET sorrow soul sound spirit storm sweet tears tell tempest thee thine thou art thou busy Thou wert thought throng toil Twas Tyler vale vengeance victor song voice Walworth Wat Tyler waves weary Westbury wind wintry wretched youth Zorobabel
Página 251 - My hopes are with the Dead ; anon My place with them will be, And I with them shall travel on Through all Futurity ; Yet leaving here a name, I trust, That will not perish in the dust.
Página 250 - Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old: My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day. With them I take delight in weal And seek relief in woe; And while I understand and feel How much to them I owe, My cheeks have often been bedew'd With tears of thoughtful gratitude.
Página 192 - And should my youth, as youth is apt I know, Some harshness show, All vain asperities I day by day Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be Like the high leaves upon the Holly Tree.
Página 260 - Two things have I required of thee ; deny me them not before I die: remove far from me vanity and lies: give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me: lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, "Who is the Lord?" or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain.
Página 202 - Resolved, their uses done. Not to the grave, not to the grave, my Soul, Follow thy friend beloved, The spirit is not there...
Página 52 - Even though in want of food, to seize the prey Which nature offers. King ! is all this just? Think you, we do not feel the wrongs we suffer ? The hour of retribution is at hand, And tyrants tremble — mark me, King of England Walworth — (comes behind him, and stabs him.) Insolent rebel, threatening the King ! Piers.
Página 180 - I thee, thou busy, busy Bee. Thou art a miser, thou busy, busy Bee! Late and early at employ ; Still on thy golden stores intent, Thy summer in heaping and hoarding is spent What thy winter will never enjoy ; Wise lesson this for me, thou busy, busy Bee ! Little dost thou think, thou busy, busy Bee ! What is the end of thy toil.
Página 228 - But fare thee well ! Mine is no narrow creed ; And HE who gave thee being did not frame The mystery of life to be the sport Of merciless Man. There is another world For all that live and move, — a better one, Where the proud bipeds, who would fain confine INFINITE GOODNESS to the little bounds Of their own charity, may envy thee.
Página 159 - Go thou and seek the House of Prayer ! I to the woodlands bend my way And meet RELIGION there. She needs not haunt the high,arch'd dome to pray Where storied windows dim the doubtful day : With LIBERTY she loves to rove...