Letters from the Nile

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T. Bosworth, 1854 - Egypt - 110 pages
 

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Page 84 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things. There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 12 - Now, where the swift Rhone cleaves his way between Heights which appear as lovers who have parted In hate, whose mining depths so intervene That they can meet no more, though broken-hearted!
Page 91 - It will not bear the brightness of the day, Which streams too much on all years...
Page 108 - The torch shall be extinguished which hath lit My midnight lamp — and what is writ, is writ, — Would it were worthier ! but I am not now That which I have been— and my visions flit Less palpably before me — and the glow Which in my spirit dwelt, is fluttering, faint, and low.
Page 26 - The morn is up again, the dewy morn, With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom, Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn, And living as if earth contained no tomb, — And glowing into day...
Page 45 - Fill'd with the face of heaven, which from afar Comes down upon the waters ; all its hues, From the rich sunset to the rising star, Their magical variety diffuse. And now they change ; a paler shadow strews Its mantle o'er the mountains ; parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues SM With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till — 'tis gone — and all is gray.
Page 69 - SWEET Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My Music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd...
Page 69 - Gaze on thy ruines, and amazed stand, They shake their spleenful heads, disdain, deride The sudden downfal of so fair a pride, They clap their joyful hands, and fill their tongues With hisses, ballads, and with lyrick songs : Her torments give their empty lips new matter, And with their scornful fingers point they at her : Is this...
Page 99 - Beyond their left were beheld the celebrated pyramids, of which the imperishable mass has survived so many empires, and braved for more than thirty centuries the outrages of time. Behind their right was the Nile, the city of Cairo, the hills of Mokattam, and the fields of the ancient Memphis. When Buonaparte had given his last orders,
Page 37 - But when the rising moon begins to climb Its topmost arch, and gently pauses there; When the stars twinkle through the loops of time, And the low night-breeze waves along the air The...

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