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The tide of even, and other poems, with tales and songs

  • Author: John Swain
  • ISBN 10: 123112413X
  • ISBN 13: 9781231124130
  • Release: May 9, 2012
  • Format: Paperback (96 pages)
  • List Price: $19.99
  • More Details

    List Price: $19.99

    Tags: Books, Subjects,

    Book Description:
    This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1877 Excerpt: ...new spells came o'er his sense;--All that the pencil's mute omnipotence Could call up into life, of soft and fair, Of fond and passionate, was glowing there; Nor yet too warm, but touch'd with that fine art Which paints of pleasure but the purer part; Which knows e'en Beauty when half veiled is best, Like her own radient planet of the west, Whose orb when half retired looks loveliest! There hung the history of the Genii-King, Traced through each gay, voluptuous wandering With her from Saba's bowers, in whose bright eyes He read that to be blest is to be wise;--Here fond Zuleika woos with open arms The Hebrew boy, who flies from her young charms, Yet, flying, turns to gaze, and, half undone, Wishes that heaven and she could both be won! And here Mohammed, born for love and guile, Forgets the Koran in his Mary's smile;--Then beckons some kind angel from above With a new text to consecrate their love! With rapid step, yet pleased and lingering eye, Did the youth pass these pictured stories by, And hasten'd to a casement, where the light Of the calm moon came in, and freshly bright The fields without were seen, sleeping as still As if no life remain'd in breeze or rill. Here paused he, while the music, now less near, Breathed with a holier language on his ear, As though the distance and that heavenly ray Through which the sounds came floating, took away All that had been too earthly in the lay. Oh! could he listen to such sounds unmoved, And by that light--nor dream of her he loved? Dream on, unconscious boy! while yet thou mayst; 'Tis the last bliss thy soul shall ever taste. Clasp yet awhile her image to thy heart, Ere all the light that made it dear depart. Think of her smiles as when thou saw'st them last, Clear, beautiful, by nought of earth o'ercast; Reca...

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