The wanderer of Switzerland, and other poems

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Page 174 - The changing spirits' rise and fall ; We know that these were felt by him, For these are felt by all. He suffered, — but his pangs are o'er; Enjoyed, — but his delights are fled; Had friends — his friends are now no more ; And foes, — his foes are dead. He...
Page 75 - By all the terrors of the tomb, Beyond the power of tongue to tell ; By the dread secrets of my womb ; By Death and Hell; " I charge thee LIVE ! — repent and pray ; In dust thine infamy deplore ; There yet is mercy ; — go thy way, And sin no more.
Page 174 - The clouds and sunbeams, o'er his eye That once their shades and glory threw, Have left in yonder silent sky No vestige where they flew. The annals of the human race...
Page 152 - The purple heath and golden broom, On moory mountains catch the gale, O'er lawns the lily sheds perfume, The violet in the vale; But this bold floweret climbs the hill, Hides in the forest, haunts the glen, Plays on the margin of the rill, Peeps round the fox's den.
Page 79 - There is a calm for those who weep, A rest for weary pilgrims found ; And while the mouldering ashes sleep Low in the ground, " The Soul, of origin divine, GOD'S glorious image, freed from clay, In heaven's eternal sphere shall shine A star of day. " The SUN is but a spark of fire, A transient meteor in the sky ; The SOUL, immortal as its Sire, SHALL NEVER DIE.
Page 164 - And with livid contagion polluting the breeze, Its mildewing influence sheds : The birds on the wing, and the flowers in their beds, Are slain by its venomous breath, That darkens the noonday with death ; And pale ghosts of travellers wander around, While their mouldering skeletons whiten the ground.
Page 86 - JOVE that scatters lightning from a cloud. " Lyre ! O Lyre ! my chosen treasure, Solace of my bleeding heart ; Lyre ! O Lyre ! my only pleasure, We will never, never part : Glory, Commerce, now in vain Tempt me to the field, the main ; The Muse's sons are blest, though born To cold neglect, and penury, and scorn.
Page 101 - ANNA left — she left behind her, One, one dear, one only child. But before the green moss peeping, His poor mother's grave...
Page 95 - Night soften'd into morning. How grand in age, how fair in youth, Are holy
Page 97 - The fainting traveller winds his way ; Bewildering meteors glare around, And tempt his wandering feet astray. Welcome, thrice welcome, to his eye, The sudden moon's inspiring light, When forth she sallies through the sky, The guardian angel of the night. Thus mortals, blind and weak, below Pursue the phantom Bliss, in vain ; The world's a...

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