The girl's own reciter, ed. by C. Peters

Front Cover
 

What people are saying - Write a review

We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 235 - Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not; Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower; Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view...
Page 204 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we, Of many far wiser than we; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Anabel Lee: For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
Page 204 - A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee ; So that her high-born kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulcher In this kingdom by the sea.
Page 109 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free!
Page 235 - Teach us, Sprite or Bird, What sweet thoughts are thine: I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. Chorus Hymeneal, Or triumphal chant, Matched with thine would be all But an empty vaunt, A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.
Page 267 - I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Page 121 - The human sorrow and smart ! And yet it never was in my soul To play so ill a part : But evil is wrought by want of Thought, As well as want of Heart...
Page 28 - And, underneath our heavy eyelids drooping, The reddest flower would look as pale as snow. For, all day, we drag our burden tiring, Through the coal-dark, underground; Or, all day, we drive the wheels of iron In the factories, round and round.
Page 40 - I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.' The boat has left a stormy land, A stormy sea before her, — When, oh ! too strong for human hand, The tempest gathered o'er her.
Page 40 - His horsemen hard behind us ride; Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride, When they have slain her lover?

Bibliographic information