Days departed; or, Banwell hill: a lay of the Severn sea |
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Days Departed; Or, Banwell Hill; a Lay of the Severn Sea William Lisle 1762-1850 Bowles No preview available - 2021 |
Common terms and phrases
amid anti-moral Apostolic Auld Robin Gray BANWELL CAVE BANWELL HILL beautiful beneath Bible BISHOP OF BATH Bleadon boots Calvinistic Camerton Cave cavern charity child Christian church clouds cold Compton House CONGRESBURY Cornish Maid Cornwall cottage cried crimes dance dark DEAR MARY deep earth Ev'n Evangelical Principles eyes FAITH father feelings Fitz-urse Flat HOLMS flower grave grey hand heard heart Heav'n Holy hope human Jaggernaut Lady LANGHORNE light living lonely Longleat look look'd LORD lowly Marazion Mary moral morning mother ne'er never night o'er pale parish pass'd Piety poem poor prayer preach roar rocks scene Severn shone shore SHUT THE BOOK sigh sight silent smile solitary song sound Spectre steal Steep Holms Stourhead sunshine sweet Syne Tale tear thee thou thought tow'r turn'd vale vilified village village maid voice wave Whilst wild William winding WOODSPRING youth
Popular passages
Page 130 - Time ! who know'st a lenient hand to lay Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence, Lulling to sad repose the weary sense, The faint pang stealest unperceived away; On thee I rest my only hope at last, And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear...
Page 130 - I rest my only hope at last, And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear, 1 may look back on every sorrow past, And meet life's peaceful evening with a smile ;— As some lone bird, at day's departing hour, Sings in the sunbeam, of the transient shower Forgetful, though its wings are wet the while ;— Yet ah ! how much must that poor heart endure, Which hopes from thee, and thee alone, a cure.
Page 137 - Victory, to the rider and his horse ! ' Ride on : — the Ark, majestic and alone On the wide waste of the careering deep, Its hull scarce peering through the night of clouds, Is seen. But lo ! the mighty deep has shrunk!
Page 194 - Here rest, my son, with me ; — the dream is fled ; — The motley mask and the great stir is o'er : Welcome to me, and to this silent bed, Where deep forgetfulness succeeds the roar Of Life, and fretting passions waste the heart no more.
Page 126 - My father urged me sair: my mother didna speak; But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break: They gie'd him my hand, tho' my heart was in the sea; Sae auld Robin Gray he was gudeman to me. I hadna been a wife a week but only four, When mournfu...
Page 52 - If we would see the fruits of charity, Look at that village group, and paint the scene. Surrounded by a clear and silent stream, Where the swift trout shoots from the sudden ray. A rural mansion, on the level lawn, Uplifts its ancient gables, whose slant shade Is drawn, as with a line, from roof to porch, Whilst all the rest is sunshine. O'er the trees...
Page 139 - Or when it murmur'd in her hand, forgot The long, loud tumult of the storm without. — She kisses it, and at her father's word, Bids it go forth. The dove flies on ! In lonely flight She flies from dawn till dark ; And now, amid the gloom of night, Comes weary to the ark. Oh ! let me in, she seems to say, For long and lone hath been my way ; Oh ! once more, gentle mistress, let me rest, And dry my dripping plumage on thy breast So the bird flew to her who cherished it.
Page 192 - I will not ask sad Pity to deplore His wayward errors, who thus early died; Still less, CHILDE HAROLD, now thou art no more, Will I say aught of genius misapplied; Of the past shadows of thy spleen or pride: — But I will bid th' Arcadian cypress wave, Pluck the green laurel from Peneus' side, And pray thy spirit may such quiet have, That not one thought unkind be murmur'd o'er thy grave.
Page 137 - Ride on : — the Ark, majestic and alone On the wide waste of the careering deep, Its hull scarce peering through the night of clouds, Is seen. But lo ! the mighty deep has shrunk! The Ark, from its terrific voyage, rests On Ararat. The Raven is sent forth, — Send out the Dove, and as her wings far off Shine in the light, that streaks the...
Page 141 - And never more she saw it ; for the Earth Was dry, and now, upon the mountain's van, Again the great Archangel stands ! the light Of the moist rainbow glitters on his hair ; He to the bow uplifts his hands, whose arch Spans the whole Heaven; and whilst, far off, in light, The ascending dove is for a moment seen, The last rain falls — falls gently and unheard, Amid the silent sunshine ! Oh ! look up ! Above the clouds, borne up the depth of light, Behold a...