English Poems

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Edward Chauncey Baldwin
Cincinnati [etc.] American book Company, 1908 - English poetry - 415 pages
 

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Page 119 - Hangs my helpless soul on Thee ; Leave, ah ! leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me 1 All my trust on Thee is stay'd, All my help from Thee I bring: Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of Thy wing! Wilt Thou not regard my call ? Wilt Thou not accept my prayer ? Lo
Page 258 - are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter ; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on ; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Page 124 - Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay 115 Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.' THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A Youth, to Fortune and to Fame unknown. — Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy marked him for her own. 120
Page 205 - those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware ! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair ! 50 Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise. CHARLES LAMB
Page 58 - xxx When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste i Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
Page 212 - That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. in For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
Page 184 - The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober coloring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, 200 Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, To me the meanest flower that blows
Page 340 - Forward the Light Brigade !' Was there a man dismay'd ? Not tho' the soldier knew Some one had blunder'd. Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. m Cannon to right of them, Cannon to
Page 63 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind I Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, 5 Although thy breath be rude. Heigh ho ! sing heigh ho ! unto the green holly : Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh ho, the holly
Page 61 - When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall And milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit, tu-who 1 A merry note, While greasy Joan doth

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