The Poems of Felicia Hemans

She dwelt in proud Venetian halls, 515 She knelt in prayer. A stream of sunset fell, 407 She sat, where on each wind that sigh’d, 420 She sleeps, but not the free and sunny sleep, 507 She stood upon the loftiest peak, 352 She that cast down the empires of the world, 138 Should love, the tyrant of my suffering heart, 45 Silent and mournful sat an Indian chief, 371 Sing, sing in memory of the brave departed, 358 Sing them upon the sunny hills, 366 Sing to me, Gondolier, 563 Singing of the free blue sky, 512 Sister! since I met thee last, 559 Sister, sweet sister! let me weep awhile, 455 Sleep midst thy banners furl’d, 365 Sleep, O beloved companion of my woes, 119 Sleep!--we give thee to the wave, 559 Soft falls the mild reviving shower, 529 Soft skies of Italy! how richly drest, 57 Soldier, awake! the night is past, 562 Son of the mighty and the free, 57 Son of the ocean isle, 246 Son of the stranger! wouldst thou take, 344 Sons of the fair isle! forget not the time, 152 Sooth’d by the strain, the wasp thus made reply, 523 Sound on! thou dark, unslumbering sea, 549 Speak low!--the place is holy to the breath, 470 Spirit beloved! whose wing so soon hath flown, 45 Spirit! so oft in radiant freedom soaring, 623 Spirit! whose life-sustaining presence fills, 602 Still are the cowslips from thy bosom springing, 619 Still green along our sunny shore, 244 Still is the Syren warbling on thy shore, 536 Still that last look is solemn! though thy rays, 620 Stop, passenger! a wondrous tale to list, 20 Surely ’tis all a dream, a fever-dream, 579 Sweet rose! whose tender foliage to expand, 48 Sweets of the wild, that breathe and bloom, 13 Sylph of the breeze, whose dewy pinions light, 51 That was a joyous day in Rheims of old, 403 The Alpine horn, the Alpine horn, 545 The bark that held a prince went down, 346 The blue, deep, glorious heavens! I lift mine eye, 583 The boy stood on the burning deck, 369 The breaking waves dash’d high, 429 The bright hours return, the blue sky is ringing, 147 The champions had come from their fields of war, 412 The chord, the harp’s full chord is hush’d, 379 The citron groves their fruits and flowers were strewing, 338 The corn in golden light, 348 The dead! the glorious dead! and shall they rise, 468 The fever’s hue hath left thy cheek, beloved, 595 The fires grew pale on Rome’s deserted shrines, 221 The gloomiest day hath gleams of light, 501 The hall of Cynddylan is gloomy to-night, 147 The hall of harps is lone to-night, 152 The hearth, the hearth is desolate, the fire is quench’d, 380 The hills all glow’d with a festive light, 432 The hollow dash of waves, the ceaseless roar, 427 The infant muse, Jehovah! would aspire, 1 The Kaiser feasted in his hall, 419 The kings of old have shrine and tomb, 376 The moonbeam quivering o’er the wave, 213 The Moor had beleaguer’d Valencia’s walls, 239 The morn rose bright on scenes renown’d, 63 The Moslem spears were gleaming, 521 The muffled drum was heard, 552 The night-wind shook the tapestry round an ancient, 405 The palm, the vine, the cedar, each hath power, 602 The plume-like swaying of the auburn corn, 598 The power that dwelleth in sweet sounds to waken, 429 The rose was in rich bloom on Sharon’s plain, 372 The sainted spirit which from bliss on high, 50 The sea bird’s wing o’er ocean’s breast, 434 The sea-king woke from the troubled sleep, 340 The skylark, when the dews of morn, 532 The sleep of storms is dark upon the skies, 508 The sound of thy streams in my spirit I hear, 499 The spirit of my land, 379 The stately homes of England, 412 The stranger’s heart! oh! wound it not, 464 The summer leaves were sighing, 539 The sun comes forth: each mountain height, 529 The sun sets brightly: but a ruddier glow, 97 The torrent-wave, that breaks with force, 48 The troubadour o’er many a plain, 101 The trumpet of the battle, 567 The trumpet’s voice hath roused the land, 374 The vesper-bell from church and tower, 547 The voices of my home! I hear them still, 316 The voices of two forest boys, 437 The war-note of the Saracen, 446 The warrior bow’d his crested head, and tamed his heart, 456 The warrior cross’d the ocean’s foam, 361 The wind, the wandering wind, 542 The wine-month shone in its golden prime, 253 The woods! oh, solemn are the boundless woods, 396 Theirs was no dream, O monarch hill, 151 Then was a task of glory all thine own, 600 There are bright scenes beneath Italian skies, 191 There are sounds in the dark Roncesvalles, 541 There are the aspens with their silvery hair, 576 There are who climb the mountain’s heathery side, 622 There blooms a plant, whose gaze from hour to hour, 46 There have been bright and glorious pageants here, 251 There is a wakening on the mighty hills, 581 There was a mournfulness in angel eyes, 599 There was heard a song on the chiming sea, 451 There was heard the sound of a coming foe, 345 There was music on the midnight, 448 There went a dirge through the forest’s gloom, 457 There went a warrior’s funeral through the night, 401 There were faint sounds of weeping; fear and gloom, 467 There were sights and sounds of revelry, 452 There were thick leaves above me and around, 427 There were trampling sounds of many feet, 515 There’s beauty all around our paths, if but our watchful eyes, 370 These marble domes, by wealth and genius graced, 50 They float before my soul, the fair designs, 623 They grew in beauty, side by side, 435 They haunt me still, these calm, pure, holy eyes, 464 They have wander’d in their glee, 541 They rear’d no trophy o’er his grave, 609 They sought for treasures in the tomb, 244 Thine eyes are charm’d, thine earnest eyes, 458 Thine is a strain to read among the hills, 422 This green recess, where through the bowery gloom, 51 This mountain scene with sylvan grandeur crown’d, 44 Those eyes whence love diffused her purest light, 44 Thou art a thing on our dreams to rise, 357 Thou art bearing hence thy roses, 366 Thou art come from the spirit’s land, thou bird, 343 Thou art gone, thou art slumbering low, 421 Thou art like night, O sickness! deeply stilling, 628 Thou art no lingerer in monarchs’ hall, 431 Thou art passing hence, my brother, 459 Thou art sounding on, thou mighty sea, 356 Thou art welcome, O thou warning voice, 509 Thou didst fall on the field with thy silver hair, 555 Thou grot, whence flows this limpid spring, 52 Thou hast a charmed cup, O Fame, 497 Thou hast been rear’d too tenderly, 486 Thou hast been where the rocks of coral grow, 481 Thou hast loved and thou hast suffered, 501 Thou hast thy record in the monarch’s hall, 599 Thou hast watch’d beside the bed of death, 507 Thou in thy morn wert like a glowing rose, 50 Thou mov’st in visions, Love! around thy way, 503 Thou see’st her pictured with her sinning hair, 416 Thou shouldst be look’d on when the starlight falls, 250 Thou shouldst have slept beneath the stately pines, 490 Thou sleepest, but when wilt thou wake, fair child, 431 Thou that canst gaze upon thine own fair boy, 356 Thou that hast loved so long and well, 489 Thou that with pallid cheek, 496 Thou that wouldst mark in form of human birth, 51 Thou the stern monarch of dismay, 51 Thou thing of years departed, 436 Thou to whose power my hopes, my joys, I gave, 45 Thou wak’st from rosy sleep to play, 355 Thou who hast fled from life’s enchanted bowers, 50 Though dark are the prospects and heavy the hours, 11 Though youth may boast the curls that flow, 10 Throne of expression, whence the spirit’s ray, 59 Through evening’s bright repose, 589 Thy foes had girt thee with their dread array, 93 Thy heart is in the upper world, where fleet the chamois, 450 Thy rest was deep at the slumberer’s hour, 348 Thy voice is in mine ear, beloved, 453 Thy voice prevails! Dear friend, my gentle friend, 442 Thy voice was in my soul, it call’d me on, 455 ’Tis lone on the waters, 486 ’Tis sweet to think the spirits of the blest, 3 To thee, maternal guardian of my youth, 2 To-night, kind friends, at your tribunal here, 21 Too long apart, a bright but sever’d band, 520 Too long have tyranny and power combined, 4 Torches were blazing clear, 346 Trees, gracious trees, how rich a gift ye are, 619 Tribes of the air, whose favour’d race, 531 ’Twas a bright moment of my life, when first, 623 ’Twas a dream of olden days, 491 ’Twas a lovely thought to mark the hours, 369 ’Twas but a dream! I saw the stag leap free, 385 ’Twas early day, and sunlight stream’d, 437 ’Twas morn upon the Grecian hills, 243 ’Twas night in Babylon; yet many a beam, 219 Twas night upon the Alps, The Senn’s wild horn, 234 ’Twas noon, and Afric’s dazzling sun on high, 212 ’Twas the deep mid-watch of the silent night, 241 Two barks met on the deep mid-sea, 560 Two solemn voices in a funeral strain, 472 Unbending midst the watery skies, 48 Under a palm-tree, by the green old Nile, 600 Upward, and upward still! in pearly light, 618 Voice of the gifted elder time, 339 Warrior! whose image on thy tomb, 428 Warriors! my noon of life is past, 56 Was it the sigh of the southern gale, 495 Was that the light from some lone swift canoe, 590 Watch ye well! the moon is shrouded, 146 Waves of Mondego, brilliant and serene, 47 We come not, fair one! to thy hand of snow, 53 We have the myrtle’s breath around us here, 394 We heard thy name, O Mina, 541 We miss thy voice, while early flowers are blooming, 486 We return, we return, we return no more, 500 We saw thee, O stranger! and wept, 343 We see no more in thy pure skies, 588 Weep thou no more! O monarch! dry thy tears, 121 Weeper! to thee how bright a morn was given, 600 Weep’st thou for him whose doom was seal’d, 56 Welcome, O pure and lovely forms! again, 628 Well might thine awful image thus arise, 628 What are the lessons given, 252 What dost thou here, brave Swiss, 294 What first should consecrate as thine, 295 What hidest thou in thy treasure-caves and cells, 361 What household thoughts around thee as their shrine, 600 What secret current of man’s nature turns, 620 What wak’st thou, spring? Sweet voices in the woods, 432 What was your doom, my father? In thine arms, 587 What wish can friendship form for thee, 295 What woke the buried sound that lay, 563 When from the mountain’s brow the gathering shade, 138 When the last blush of eve is dying, 148 When the soft breath of spring goes forth, 533 When the tide’s billowy swell, 492 When the young eagle with exulting eye, 106 When thy bounding step I hear, 524 When twilight’s gray and pensive hour, 532 When will ye think of me, my friends, 500 Whence are those tranquil joys in mercy given, 15 Whence art thou, flower? From holy ground, 244 Whence is the might of thy master-spell, 498 Where are the vintage-songs, 546 Where are they, those green fairy islands, reposing, 146 Where is the sea? I languish here, 487