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bear beautiful beneath borne bound breast breath breeze bright Bring brow cheek child clear dark dead death deep dream dust dwell earth Ev'n face faded faint fair fear floating flow flowers forest gentle glance gleam glow gone grave green grief hair hall hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour land leave lifted light lips live lone look look'd midst mother mournful night Note o'er once pale proud rest rich rose round seem'd shade shadow shore silent sleep smile soft song soul sound speak spirit spread spring stars step stood strain stream strong sweet tears thee thine things thou thought tone unto voice waters wave weep wild wind woman's woods young youth
Стр. 227 - Ye of the rose-cheek and dew-bright eye, And the bounding footstep, to meet me fly, With the lyre, and the wreath, and the joyous lay, Come forth to the sunshine, I may not stay...
Стр. 89 - I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell; To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely; and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings, whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea.
Стр. 223 - CHILD, amidst the flowers at play, While the red light fades away ; Mother, with thine earnest eye, Ever following silently ; Father, by the breeze of eve Call'd thy harvest work to leave — Pray : ere yet the dark hours be, Lift the heart and bend the knee...
Стр. 224 - Traveller, in the stranger's land Far from thine own household band ; Mourner, haunted by the tone Of a voice from this world gone ; Captive, in whose narrow cell Sunshine hath not leave to dwell ; Sailor, on the darkening sea — Lift the heart and bend the knee...
Стр. 95 - And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes like the warbling of music) than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight, than to know what be the flowers and plants that do best perfume the air.
Стр. 229 - Nought looks the same, save the nest we made!" Sad is your tale of the beautiful earth, Birds that o'ersweep it in power and mirth ! Yet through the wastes of the trackless air Ye have a guide, and shall we despair? Ye over desert and deep have pass'd — So may we reach our bright home at last ! THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD.
Стр. 228 - And what have ye found in the monarch's dome, Since last ye traversed the blue sea's foam? — " We have found a change, we have found a pall, And a gloom o'ershadowing the banquet's hall, And a mark on the floor as of life-drops spilt — Nought looks the same, save the nest we built!
Стр. 229 - midst the blooms of the morn may dwell, I tarry no longer — farewell, farewell ! The summer is coming, on soft winds borne, Ye may press the grape, ye may bind the corn '. For me, I depart to a brighter shore, Ye are mark'd by care, ye are mine no more. I go where the loved who have left you dwell, And the flowers are not Death's — fare ye well, farewell ! THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS.
Стр. 147 - Banners of battle o'er him hung, And warriors slept beneath, And light, as noon's broad light was flung On the settled face of death. On the settled face of death A strong and ruddy glare, Though...
Стр. 220 - The mountain-storms rise high In the snowy Pyrenees, And toss the pine-boughs through the sky, Like rose-leaves on the breeze. But let the storm rage on ! Let the fresh wreaths be shed ! • For the Roncesvalles' field is won, — There slumber England's dead.