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Kitaplar How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest... ile ilgili
" How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon... "
Cobb's New Sequel to the Juvenile Readers, Or, Fourth Reading Book ... - Sayfa 191
Lyman Cobb tarafından - 1845 - 240 sayfa
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Poems by William Cowper: To which is Prefixed a Memoir of the Author by John ...

William Cowper - 1837 - 514 sayfa
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the seafowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair ; Even here is a season of...
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The Book of Gems: Pomfret to Bloomfield

Samuel Carter Hall - 1837
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair ; Even here is a season of...
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The Book of Gems: Pomfret to Bloomfield

Samuel Carter Hall - 1837
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair ; Even here is a season of...
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The Life and Adventures of Alexander Selkirk, the Real Robinson Crusoe: A ...

1837 - 64 sayfa
...behind, And the swift-wing'd arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seern to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl has gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair ; Even here is a season of...
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The National Preceptor: Or, Selections in Prose and Poetry; Consisting of ...

Jesse Olney - 1838 - 336 sayfa
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-wing'd arrows of light When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But, alas ! recollection at hand 7. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair ;* Even here is a season...
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Sabbath Recreations: Or, Select Poetry of a Religious Kind

Emily Taylor - 1839 - 288 sayfa
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But, alas! recollection, at hand, Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl has gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair; Even here is a season of...
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The Young Man from Home

John Angell James - 1859 - 187 sayfa
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift winged arrows of light. " When I tlvink of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there : But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. " But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair, Even here is a season of...
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Sabbath Recreations: Or, Select Poetry of a Religious Kind

Emily Taylor - 1839 - 288 sayfa
...And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to he there ; But, alas! recollection, at hand, Soon hurries me back to despair. But the sea-fowl has gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair; Even here is a season of...
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Poems, by William Cowper, Esq: Together with His Posthumous Poetry ..., 1. cilt

William Cowper - 1841
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But, alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. VII. But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair ; Even here is a season...
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The book of poetry [ed. by B.G. Johns].

Book - 1841 - 139 sayfa
...tempest itself lags behind, And the swift- winged arrows of light ! When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But, alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair ! But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair : Even here is a season...
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