Category: Poetry
The convent bells are ringing, But mournfully and slow; In the gray, square turret swinging, With a deep sound, to and fro, Heavily to the heart they go! Hark! the hymn is singing— The song for the dead below, Or the living who shortly shall be so! BYRON’S PARISINA.
Night wanes—the vapours round the mountain curled Melt into morn, and light awakes the world. Man has another day to swell the past, And lead him near to little but his last. BY...
8. CHAPTER III.“Frederic, my dearest—pride of my heart—love of my youth—my husband! A sweet, yet most mournful task is mine, to write to you words which you may not read until my voice is hush...
3. CHAPTER VII.A short gap in this narrative places the present action of our story in America. It is needless here to narrate the first settlement of the New England Colonies. The landing of...
2. CHAPTER VI.We pass over that brief period in history during which the new form of government established by Cromwell flourished, and the usurper and his successor, under the title of Prote...
1. CHAPTER V.The convent bells are ringing, But mournfully and slow; In the gray, square turret swinging, With a deep sound, to and fro, Heavily to the heart they go! Hark! the hymn is singi...
4. CHAPTER VIII.Which sloping hills around enclose. Where many a beech and brown oak grows, Beneath whose dark and branching bowers Its tide a far-famed river pours, By Nature’s beauties taught...
7. CHAPTER II.“I seek her now—I kneel—I shriek— I clasp her vesture—but she fades, still fades; And she is gone; sweet human love is gone! ’Tis only when they spring to heaven that angels Rev...
6. CHAPTER I.What lit your eyes with tearful power, Like moonlight on a falling shower? Who lent you, love, your mortal dower Of pensive thought and aspect pale, Your melancholy sweet and fr...