The Diosma, a Perennial |
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Page 19
... graves Their hallowed ashes rest , Their children , moving as the waves , Still guard the dear bequest . And lo ! in joyous bands we come , Our votive wreaths to twine , As brethren to a father - home , Round Memory's hallowed shrine ...
... graves Their hallowed ashes rest , Their children , moving as the waves , Still guard the dear bequest . And lo ! in joyous bands we come , Our votive wreaths to twine , As brethren to a father - home , Round Memory's hallowed shrine ...
Page 35
... grave . The autumn wind went whistling by , The dead leaves whirling far and wide ; Yet , still no voice of sympathy From those untroubled depths replied . The upper waters might be stirred ; The fringing grass and rushes , thrill ; But ...
... grave . The autumn wind went whistling by , The dead leaves whirling far and wide ; Yet , still no voice of sympathy From those untroubled depths replied . The upper waters might be stirred ; The fringing grass and rushes , thrill ; But ...
Page 82
... grave of our once happy hours . It is too sad , to gaze upon the seeming Of nature's changeless loveliness , and feel That , with the sunshine round , the heart is dreaming Darkly o'er wounds inflicted , not to heal , A long while ago ...
... grave of our once happy hours . It is too sad , to gaze upon the seeming Of nature's changeless loveliness , and feel That , with the sunshine round , the heart is dreaming Darkly o'er wounds inflicted , not to heal , A long while ago ...
Page 99
... grave to bend ! - Strangers then will heedless bear me Where the stranger's dust may lie ; Yet the tribute none will spare me Of a tear , while thus I die . They behold my life - string sever At the conqueror's final blow ; But the ...
... grave to bend ! - Strangers then will heedless bear me Where the stranger's dust may lie ; Yet the tribute none will spare me Of a tear , while thus I die . They behold my life - string sever At the conqueror's final blow ; But the ...
Page 123
... declare : Earth's sullen and uncultured parts With flowers , bright flowers , would wave , Telling the love of gentle hearts Endures beyond the grave . MRS . ABDY . MEETINGS HERE . WHAT are meetings , here , but THE DIOSMA . 123.
... declare : Earth's sullen and uncultured parts With flowers , bright flowers , would wave , Telling the love of gentle hearts Endures beyond the grave . MRS . ABDY . MEETINGS HERE . WHAT are meetings , here , but THE DIOSMA . 123.
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Common terms and phrases
angel BARRY CORNWALL beaming beauty bless bloom bosom breast breath bright brow cheek child clouds cold crickets sing dark dead dear death dream earth earthly empty name fair fear feel flowers fountain friends glad gloom glory glow golden grave green grief H. F. GOULD hand hath heart heart of youth Heaven holy hope hopes and fears hour leaves LEIGH HUNT life's light lips little foot lonely long while ago look lute lyre memory morn Morning Star MORPETH mortal may know mother never night numbers o'er pale peace prayer pure rest rills rose round seemed shed shine sigh sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul spirit spring stars SUNNY BROW sweet tears tempest thee thine thou thought tomb tree Twas twill voice wandering warm wave weary weep wild wind wings youth
Popular passages
Page 121 - We watched her breathing through 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...
Page 189 - Now, I shall be out of sight ; So through the valley and over the height, In silence I'll take my way ; I will not go on like that blustering train, The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain, Who make so much bustle and noise in vain ; — But I'll be as busy as they.
Page 145 - Who God doth late and early pray More of his grace than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend — This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise or fear to fall: Lord of himself, though not of lands, And, having nothing, yet hath all.
Page 131 - twill shortly be With every mark on earth from me ! A wave of dark oblivion's sea Will sweep across the place, Where I have trod the sandy shore Of Time, — and been to be no more ; Of me, — my day, — the name I bore.
Page 205 - Thee, when young Spring first question'd Winter's sway, And dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight, Thee on this bank he threw To mark his victory. In this low vale, the promise of the year, Serene, thou openest to the nipping gale, Unnoticed and alone, Thy tender elegance...
Page 190 - I'll bite this basket of fruit," said he; "This costly pitcher I'll burst in three; And the glass of water they've left for me Shall 'tchick!
Page 144 - HOW happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will; Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill ! Whose passions not his masters are; Whose soul is still prepared for death, Untied unto the world by care Of public fame or private breath...
Page 126 - Sleep breathes at last from out thee, My little patient boy ; And balmy rest about thee— Smooths off the day's annoy. I sit me down and think Of all thy winning ways; Yet almost wish with sudden shrink That I had less to praise.
Page 85 - Gainst dreams of baffled bliss the heart to steel, To wander sad down age's vale of tears, As whirl the wither'd leaves from friendship's tree, And on earth's wintry wold alone to be : Weep not for Her...
Page 84 - Weep not for her ! Her span was like the sky, Whose thousand stars shine beautiful and bright ; Like flowers, that know not what it is to die ; Like long-link'd, shadeless months of Polar light ; Like Music floating o'er a waveless lake, While Echo answers from the flowery brake : Weep not for her ! Weep not for her! She died in early youth, Ere Hope had lost its rich romantic hues ; When human bosoms...