Ariel, and Other Poems

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Bunce & Brother, 1855 - 316 pages
 

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Page xx - Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves ; And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him, When he comes back...
Page xix - Some heavenly music, (which even now I do,) To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.
Page xx - Where the bee sucks, there suck I : In a cowslip's bell I lie ; There I couch '. When owls do cry, On the bat's back I do fly After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live note, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Page xv - I can give not what men call love, But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above And the Heavens reject not, The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow...
Page 39 - A dim veil hangs over the landscape and flood, And the hills are all mellowed in haze, While Fall, creeping on like a monk 'neath his hood, Plucks the thick-rustling wealth of the maize.
Page xx - I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war...
Page 41 - And all their echoes mourn. The willows and the hazel copses green Shall now no more be seen Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. As killing as the canker to the rose...
Page 39 - ... sheep, hedged away from the maize. With springtime and culture, in martial array It waves its green broadswords on high, And fights with the gale, in a fluttering fray, And the sunbeams, which fall from the sky ; It strikes its green blades at the zephyrs at noon, And at night at the swift-flying fays...
Page 39 - O'er the heads of the cloud-kissing oak ; Near the skirt of the grove, where the sturdy arm swings The axe till the old giant sways, And echo repeats every blow as it rings, Shoots the green and the glorious maize ! There buds of the buckeye in spring are the first, And the willow's gold hair then appears, And snowy the cups of the dogwood that burst By the red bud.
Page 39 - The ploughman is cheered by the finch on the bough, And the blackbird doth follow his tread. And idle, afar on the landscape descried. The deep-lowing kine slowly graze. And nibbling the grass on the sunny hillside Are the sheep, hedged away from the maize. With spring-time and culture, in martial array It waves its green broadswords on high, And fights with the gale, in a fluttering fray, And the sunbeams, which fall from the sky ; It...

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