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ALFRED TENNYSON AUGUSTA WEBSTER AUSTIN DOBSON Ballade beauty bird bliss bloom blossoms blue bosom bough breath bright charm CHRISTINA ROSSETTI DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI dead dear death doth dream earth EDWARD DOWDEN eyes face fade faint fair falling rose feet flowers FRANCIS HASTINGS DOYLE FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE glow golden green grow hand happy hast hath hear heart heaven JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL kiss leaves life's light lips lonely Lord love thee Love's lyric MATTHEW ARNOLD morning murmur never night o'er pain pass poem poet rhymes RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH rondeau Rondel round scent shadow shalt shore sigh sing skies sleep smile snow soft song soul spirit Spring stars summer sweet THEOPHILE MARZIALS thine things thou art thought to-day tree Triolet voice warm weary whispering wild WILLIAM BELL SCOTT wind wings woods words
Page 14 - I HAVE been here before, But when or how I cannot tell : I know the grass beyond the door, The sweet keen smell, The sighing sound, the lights around the shore. You have been mine before, — How long ago I may not know : But just when at that swallow's soar Your neck turned so, Some veil did fall, — I knew it all of yore.
Page 126 - PRUNE thou thy words, the thoughts control That o'er thee swell and throng ; They will condense within thy soul, And change to purpose strong. But he, who lets his feelings run In soft luxurious flow, Shrinks when hard service must be done, And faints at every woe. Faith's meanest deed more favour bears, Where hearts and wills are weighed, Than brightest transports, choicest prayers, Which bloom their hour and fade.
Page 133 - Ah! when at last we lie with tranced breath, Not vexing Thee in death, And Thou rememberest of what toys We made our joys, How weakly understood Thy great commanded good, Then, fatherly not less Than I whom Thou hast moulded from the clay, Thou'lt leave Thy wrath, and say, 'I will be sorry for their childishness.
Page 132 - From his late sobbing wet. And I, with moan, Kissing away his tears, left others of my own; For, on a table drawn beside his head, He had put, within his reach, A box of counters and a...
Page 9 - With all my will, but much against my heart, We two now part. My Very Dear, Our solace is, the sad road lies so clear. It needs no art, With faint, averted feet And many a tear, In our opposed paths to persevere. Go thou to East, I West. We will not say There's any hope, it is so far away. But, O, my Best, When the one darling of our widowhead, The nursling Grief, Is dead, And no dews blur our eyes To see the peach-bloom come in evening skies, Perchance we may, Where now this night is day, And even...
Page 98 - The moth's kiss, first! Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure, this eve. How my face, your flower, had pursed Its petals up; so, here and there You brush it, till I grow aware Who wants me, and wide ope I burst.
Page 194 - ... and play ; Hearken what the past doth witness and say : Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array, A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay. At midnight, at cockcrow, at morning, one certain day Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay : Watch thou and pray. Then I answered : Yea. Passing away, saith my God, passing away : Winter passeth after the long delay : New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray, Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven's May. Though I tarry wait for Me,...
Page 156 - With echoing straits between us thrown, Dotting the shoreless watery wild, We mortal millions live alone, The islands feel the enclasping flow, And then their endless bounds they know. But when the moon their hollows lights, And they are swept by balms of spring, And in their glens, on starry nights, The nightingales divinely sing; And lovely notes, from shore to shore, Across the sounds and channels pour— Oh ! then a longing like despair Is to their farthest caverns sent ; For surely once, they...
Page 243 - COUNT each affliction, whether light or grave, God's messenger sent down to thee. Do thou With courtesy receive him : rise and bow : And, ere his shadow pass thy threshold, crave Permission first his heavenly feet to lave, Then lay before him all thou hast. Allow No cloud of passion to usurp thy brow, Or mar thy hospitality, no wave Of mortal tumult to obliterate Thy soul's marmoreal calmness.