Poems

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William Blackwood and Sons, Edinburgh and London, 1868 - 371 pages

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Page 145 - O Lady! we receive but what we give And in our life alone does Nature live: Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud! And would we aught behold of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world allowed To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the Earth And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element!
Page 157 - THE stately Homes of England, How beautiful they stand ! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land. The deer across their greensward bound, Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream. The merry Homes of England ! Around their hearths by night, What gladsome looks of household love Meet in the ruddy light ! There woman's voice flows forth in song, Or childhood's tale is told, Or lips move tunefully along Some glorious page...
Page 93 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed ; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Page 24 - Say, father ! say If yet my task is done ! ' He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. ' Speak, father ! ' once again he cried, ' If I may yet be gone ! ' And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Page 158 - O'er all the pleasant land ! The deer across their greensward bound, Through shade and sunny gleam ; And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream. The merry homes of England ! Around their hearths by night, What gladsome looks of household love Meet in the ruddy light ! There woman's voice flows forth in song, Or childhood's tale is told ; Or lips move tunefully along Some glorious page of old.
Page 179 - OH ! call my brother back to me ! I cannot play alone ; The Summer comes with flower and bee — Where is my brother gone ? " The butterfly is glancing bright Across the sunbeam's track ; I care not now to chase its flight — Oh ! call my brother back ! " The flowers run wild — the flowers we sow'd Around our garden tree; Our vine is drooping with its load — Oh ! call him back to me...
Page 24 - While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made way. They wrapt the ship in splendour wild, They caught the flag on high, And streamed above the gallant child Like banners in the sky. There came a burst of thunder-sound — • The boy — oh ! where was he ? Ask of the winds that far around With fragments strewed the sea ! — With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, That well had borne their part ; But the noblest thing which perished there Was that young faithful heart ! VII.—...
Page 100 - Into these glassy eyes put light, — be still! keep down thine ire, — Bid these white lips a blessing speak — this earth is not my sire! Give me back him for whom I strove, for whom my blood was shed, — Thou canst not — and a king ? — His dust be mountains on thy head!
Page 33 - Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world— with kings, The powerful of the earth— the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Page 288 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?

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