Songs of Three CenturiesJohn Greenleaf Whittier |
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Page xii
... . 148 William Knox . 149 . . Richard H. Barham 150 • MY LIFE IS LIKE THE SUMMER ROSE . THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE , • Richard Henry Wilde Charles Wolfe 152 • 152 CONTENTS . xiii SWEET HOME . THE CHILDE'S DESTINY KINDRED xii CONTENTS .
... . 148 William Knox . 149 . . Richard H. Barham 150 • MY LIFE IS LIKE THE SUMMER ROSE . THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE , • Richard Henry Wilde Charles Wolfe 152 • 152 CONTENTS . xiii SWEET HOME . THE CHILDE'S DESTINY KINDRED xii CONTENTS .
Page xvi
... 253 66 66 254 Aubrey De Vere 254 Alice Carey 254 " 6 66 255 66 66 255 Phebe Carcy 256 66 66 255 66 66 257 257 258 • Rose Terry Cooke • 258 66 64 66 259 Sydney Dobell Thomas Burbridge . xvii LOVE . Anne C. ( Lynch ) Botta 259 xvi CONTENTS .
... 253 66 66 254 Aubrey De Vere 254 Alice Carey 254 " 6 66 255 66 66 255 Phebe Carcy 256 66 66 255 66 66 257 257 258 • Rose Terry Cooke • 258 66 64 66 259 Sydney Dobell Thomas Burbridge . xvii LOVE . Anne C. ( Lynch ) Botta 259 xvi CONTENTS .
Page xxii
... ROSE TERRY 187 Iconoclast , The 190 " It is more blessed ' 258 259 187 63 284 COWLEY , ABRAHAM . Liberty 41 83 Of myself 84 COWPER , WILLIAM . 40 71 69 69 80 BUCHANAN , ROBERT . Green Gnome , The . BURNS , ROBERT . Bard's Epitaph , A ...
... ROSE TERRY 187 Iconoclast , The 190 " It is more blessed ' 258 259 187 63 284 COWLEY , ABRAHAM . Liberty 41 83 Of myself 84 COWPER , WILLIAM . 40 71 69 69 80 BUCHANAN , ROBERT . Green Gnome , The . BURNS , ROBERT . Bard's Epitaph , A ...
Page xxviii
... Rose WILLIAMS , HELEN MARIA . Whilst Thee I seek . WILLIS , NATHANIEL PARKER . " Melanie , " From Unseen Spirits WILSON , JOHN . Memory , A 100 Ode to Duty 102 152 • Peele Castle in a Storm , On a Picture of 101 River Duddon , To the ...
... Rose WILLIAMS , HELEN MARIA . Whilst Thee I seek . WILLIS , NATHANIEL PARKER . " Melanie , " From Unseen Spirits WILSON , JOHN . Memory , A 100 Ode to Duty 102 152 • Peele Castle in a Storm , On a Picture of 101 River Duddon , To the ...
Page 5
... roses , And a thousand fragrant posies ; A cap of flowers and a kirtle , Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle ; A gown made of the finest wool , Which from our pretty lambs we pull ; Fair lined slippers for the cold , With buckles of ...
... roses , And a thousand fragrant posies ; A cap of flowers and a kirtle , Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle ; A gown made of the finest wool , Which from our pretty lambs we pull ; Fair lined slippers for the cold , With buckles of ...
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Common terms and phrases
angels beauty BEGONE DULL CARE bells beneath bird blessed bliss bonnie Braes breast breath bright busk calm Christabel clouds dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth EDMUND SPENSER Edom eternal eyes face fair fear flowers frae Glenlogie glory golden grace grave green Grongar Hill hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill holy hour Hymn Inchcape Rock JOHN BYROM Kilmeny kiss lady land lassie light live Lochaber lonely look Lord maun mind morning mourn ne'er never night o'er praise rest rose round Saint Agnes SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE scorn shade shine shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thought tree unto vale voice wandering waves weary weel ween weep wild WILLIAM SHENSTONE wind wings Yarrow
Popular passages
Page 125 - But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. And there lay the rider, distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail ; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
Page 66 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all: And, as a bird each fond endearment tries, To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Page 209 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Page 30 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Page 125 - For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
Page 160 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this "Song of the Shirt.
Page 223 - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea,
Page 37 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Page 97 - No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay...
Page 223 - Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap, forlorn! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn!