Lillian and Other Poems

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Redfield, 1857 - 290 pages

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Page 132 - His talk was like a stream which runs With rapid change from rocks to roses; It slipped from politics to puns; It passed from Mahomet to Moses; Beginning with the laws which keep The planets in their radiant courses, And ending with some precept deep For dressing eels or shoeing horses.
Page 133 - And when religious sects ran mad He held, in spite of all his learning, That if a man's belief is bad It will not be improved by burning.
Page 142 - — upon the river ; Some jealousy of some one's heir, Some hopes of dying broken-hearted, A miniature, a lock of hair, The usual vows, — and then we parted. We parted ; months and years...
Page 142 - She smiled on many just for fun ; I knew that there was nothing in it ; I was the first — the only — one Her heart had thought of for a minute : I knew it, for she told me so In phrase which was divinely moulded.
Page 273 - So forward and farewell ! Toll ye my second, toll ! Fling high the flambeau's light, And sing the hymn for a parted soul Beneath the silent night ! The wreath upon his head, The cross upon his breast, Let the prayer be said and the tear be shed, So, — take him to his rest ! Call ye my whole, — ay, call The lord of lute and lay ; And let him greet the sable pall With a noble song to-day.
Page 141 - Grew lovelier from her pencil's shading; She botanized ; I envied each Young blossom in her boudoir fading; She warbled Handel ; it was grand — She made the Catalan!
Page 139 - There, when the sounds of flute and fiddle Gave signal sweet in that old hall Of hands across and down the middle, Hers was the subtlest spell by far Of all that...
Page 54 - As he took forth a bait from his iron box. It was a bundle of beautiful things, A peacock's tail, and a butterfly's wings, A scarlet slipper, an auburn curl, A mantle of silk, and a bracelet of pearl, And a packet of letters, from whose sweet fold Such a stream of delicate odours rolled, That the abbot fell on his face, and fainted, And deemed his spirit was half-way sainted.
Page 140 - And then she danced, — oh, heaven, her dancing! Dark was her hair, her hand was white; Her voice was exquisitely tender; Her eyes were full of liquid light; I never saw a waist so slender; Her every look, her every smile, Shot right and left a score of arrows; I thought 'twas Venus from her isle, And wondered where she'd left her sparrows.
Page 139 - Oh, heaven ! her dancing ! Dark was her hair ; her hand was white ; Her voice was exquisitely tender; Her eyes were full of liquid light ; I never saw a waist so slender. Her every look, her every smile, Shot right and left a score of arrows ; I thought 'twas Venus from her isle, And wondered where she'd left her sparrows!

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