The Poetical Works of Robert Southey: With a Memoir of the Author ...Little, Brown & Company, 1860 |
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Abulcacem Adosinda Alphonso altar amid Arian arms Asturian Athanagild Auria behold beneath Bishop blood breath brought called Cantabria child Christ Christian church cimeter Cordoba Count Don Julian Count Julian countenance cried cross death doth dreadful earth Egilona Espaņa evil exclaimed eyes faith false hermit Father Favila fear Florinda Goth grave grief hand hath head heard heart Heaven hermitage Holy Ark honor hope hour King Don Rodrigo knew look Lord Maccabee manner mercy Moorish Moors mountain night noble o'er Orpas Oviedo passed Pelayo penance penitence pray prayers Prince receive relics renegade replied rock Roderick round Rusilla saint shame side silent sins Siverian soul Spain spake spirit stood Sueves sword tears tell thee Theodofred Theudemir thine things thou art thou hast thou shalt thought Toledo tomb vale vengeance victory voice ween Witiza
Popular passages
Page 4 - Within the soul a faculty abides, That with interpositions, which would hide And darken, so can deal that they become Contingencies of pomp; and serve to exalt Her native brightness. As the ample moon, In the deep stillness of a summer even Rising behind a thick and lofty grove, Burns, like an unconsuming fire of light, In the green trees; and, kindling on all sides Their leafy umbrage, turns the dusky veil Into a substance glorious as her own, Yea, with her own incorporated, by power Capacious and...
Page 222 - And deemed the deep opake would blot her beams ; But, melting like a wreath of snow, it hangs In folds of wavy silver round, and clothes The orb with richer beauties than her own, Then, passing, leaves her in her light serene.
Page 197 - Nor were the chiefs Of victory less assured, by long success Elate, and proud of that o'erwhelming strength Which, surely they believed, as it had rolled Thus far...
Page 213 - Father, in whatever clime Nature or chance hath cast the seeds of life, All tongues, all colours : neither after death Shall we be sorted into languages And tints, ..white, black, and tawny, Greek and Goth, Northmen and offspring of hot Africa; The All-Father, he in whom we live and move, He the indifferent Judge of all, regards Nations, and hues, and dialects alike. According to their works shall they be judged, When even-handed Justice in the scale Their good and evil weighs.
Page 148 - Ripples and glances on the confluent streams. A lovelier, purer light than that of day Rests on the hills ; and oh how awfully Into that deep and tranquil firmament, The summits of Auseva rise serene ! The watchman on the battlements partakes The stillness of the solemn hour ; he feels The silence of the earth, the endless sound Of flowing water soothes him, and the stars, Which, in that brightest moonlight...
Page 222 - Through all its way it hastens, 'tis received, And, losing all pollution, mingles there In the wide world of waters. So is it With the great stream of things, if all were seen ; Good the beginning, good the end shall be, And transitory evil only make The good end happier. Ages pass away, Thrones fall, and nations disappear, and worlds Grow old and go to wreck ; the soul alone Endures, and what she chuseth for herself, The arbiter of her own destiny, That only shall be permanent.
Page 107 - Oh ! what are we, Frail creatures as we are, that we should sit In judgment, man on man ? and what were we, If the All-merciful should mete to us With the same rigorous measure wherewithal Sinner to sinner metes ? But God beholds The secrets of the heart, — therefore his name Is Merciful.
Page 32 - His spirit failed, and laying on the grave His weary head, as on a pillow, sleep Fell on him. He had prayed to hear a voice Of consolation, and in dreams a voice Of consolation came. Roderick, it said, . . Roderick, my poor, unhappy, sinful child, Jesus have mercy on thee! . . Not if Heaven Had opened, and Romano, visible In his beatitude, had breathed that prayer; . . Not if the grave had spoken, had it pierced So deeply in his soul, nor wrung his heart With such compunctious visitings, nor given...
Page 224 - To the cold moon a richer, stronger strain Than that with which the lyric lark salutes The new-born day. Her deep and thrilling song Seemed with its piercing melody to reach The soul, and in mysterious unison Blend with all thoughts of gentleness and love. Their hearts were open to the healing power Of nature ; and the splendor of the night, The flow of waters, and that sweetest lay, Came to them like a copious evening dew Falling on vernal herbs which thirst for rain.
Page 37 - The open fields, and found himself alone Beneath the starry canopy of Heaven, The sense of solitude, so dreadful late, Was then repose and comfort. There he stopt Beside a little rill, and brake the loaf ; And shedding o'er that long untasted food Painful but quiet tears, with grateful soul He breathed thanksgiving forth, then made his bed On heath and myrtle.