THERE is an hour, a pensive hour; (And oh! how dear its soothing pow'r!)
25 lines
'Twas early day -- and sunlight stream'd
Soft through a quiet room,
32 lines
A monarch on his death-bed lay --
Did censors waft perfume,
32 lines
When will ye think of me, my friends?
When will ye think of me?
28 lines
Thy voice prevails -- dear friend, my gentle friend!
This long-shut heart for thee shall be unsealed,
267 lines
His very heart athirst
To gaze at nature in her green array,
75 lines
OH, queen of dreams! 'tis now the hour, Thy fav'rite hour of silence and of sleep;
57 lines
OH thou! whose soft, bewitching lyre, Can lull the sting of pain to rest;
33 lines
OH thou! the musing, wakeful pow'r, That lov'st the silent, midnight hour,
52 lines, 1 comment
Heard ye the Gothic trumpet's blast?
The march of hosts as Alaric passed?
184 lines
There were thick leaves above me and around,
And low sweet sighs like those of childhood's sleep,
45 lines
WHERE is the summer, with her golden sun?
—That festal glory hath not pass'd from earth:
28 lines
\And is not love in vain,
Torture enough without a living tomb?\
281 lines
The corn, in golden light,
Waves o'er the plain;
15 lines
Thou giv'st me flowers, thou giv'st me songs; bring back
The love that I have lost!
58 lines
Bring flowers, young flowers, for the festal board,
To wreathe the cup ere the wine is pour'd;
36 lines
A sound of music, from amidst the hills,
Came suddenly, and died; a fitful sound
109 lines
The boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but he had fled;
48 lines, 9 comments
FAIR Gratitude! in strain sublime, Swell high to heav'n thy tuneful zeal;
40 lines
Torches were blazing clear,
Hymns pealing deep and slow,
106 lines
She knelt in prayer. A stream of sunset fell
Thro' the stain'd window of her lonely cell,
124 lines
They float before my soul, the fair designs
Which I would body forth to life and power,
14 lines
CALM on the bosom of thy God,
Fair spirit, rest thee now!
8 lines
Du Heilige! rufe dein Kind zur?ch habe genossen das irdische Gl?ch habe gelebt und geliebet. ~Wallenstein
245 lines
Too long have Tyranny and Power combined,
To sway, with iron sceptre, o'er mankind;
650 lines
Wouldst thou wear the gift of immortal bloom?
Wouldst thou smile in scorn at the shadowy tomb?
48 lines
Whither, oh! whither wilt thou wing thy way?
What solemn region first upon thy sight
13 lines, 2 comments
Dark lowers our fate,
And terrible the storm that gathers o'er us;
65 lines
A WAIL was heard around the bed, the death-bed of the young, Amidst her tears the Funeral Chant a mournful mother sung.
70 lines
Now autumn strews on every plain,
His mellow fruits and fertile grain;
30 lines
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