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billows birds blessed blue breath bright brow cheek cloud cold cried d'ye think dame dance dark dead deaf dear death dream elves eyes face fair fairy fancy fear fiddle flowers gaze gloom Gog and Magog gold Gold Sticks golden ass Golden Leg gone green grief guinea hair hand happy hath head heard heart heaven horrid huckaback human kiss leaves light lips living look Lord Love's lullaby Meanwhile merry Miss Kilmansegg moon morning mortal ne'er Nelly Gray never night Number o'er once Otto of Roses pale Peace perchance poor raining music rose Rotterdam round Sally Brown Saturn seemed shine sigh sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit sweet tears tender thee There's thing thou thought thrush tree trumpet turned Twas wave weep Wherefore Whilst wings wretched young Zounds
Page 168 - ... the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. " ' So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about, As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. " ' Our very hopes belied our fears ; Our fears our hopes belied ; We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died. " ' For when the morn came dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed ; — she had Another morn than ours.
Page 148 - I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing ; My spirit flew in feathers then That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow. I remember, I remember The fir-trees dark and high ; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky : It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm farther off from Heaven Than when I was a boy.
Page 123 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread, — Stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still, with a voice of dolorous pitch, She sang the "Song of the Shirt.
Page 117 - Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing,— Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; ' Not of the stains of her— All that remains of her Now, is pure womanly.
Page 118 - Death has left on her Only the beautiful. Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family, Wipe those poor lips of hers, Oozing so clammily. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb — Her fair auburn tresses ; Whilst wonderment guesses, Where was her home ? Who was her father? Who was her mother ? Had she a sister? Had she a brother ? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other?
Page 146 - Deeply ripened ;— such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn. Round her eyes her tresses fell, Which were blackest none could tell, But long lashes veiled a light, That had else been all too bright.
Page 120 - Out of the world ! In she plunged boldly, No matter how coldly The rough river ran, — Over the brink of it : Picture it,- — think of it, Dissolute man ! Lave in it, drink of it, Then, if you can ! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care ; Fashion'd so slenderly, Young, and so fair ! Ere her limbs frigidly Stiffen too rigidly Decently, — kindly, — Smooth and compose them...
Page 97 - Pleasantly shone the setting sun Over the town of Lynn. Like sportive deer they coursed about, And shouted as they ran, — Turning to mirth all things of earth, As only boyhood can, But the usher sat remote from all, A melancholy man ! His hat was off, his vest apart, To catch Heaven's blessed breeze ; For a burning thought was in his brow, And his bosom ill at ease ; So he leaned his head on his hands, and read The book between his knees.
Page 134 - And banners waved before; And gentle youth and maidens gay, And snowy plumes they wore; It would have been a beauteous dream — If it had been no more! "Alas, alas, fair Ines! She went away with song, With Music waiting on her steps, And shoutings of the throng; But some were sad and felt no mirth, But only Music's wrong, In sounds that sang Farewell, Farewell, To her you've loved so long.