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beams beautiful beneath bird bloom blue breast breath bright brow child close clouds cold comes dark dead death deep dreams earth eternal face fair fall fear feel flow flowers friends gaze gentle Give glorious glory golden grave green hand hath hear heart heaven hills holy hopes hour leaves light living lone look lost melody memory moon morning mother mountain mournful nature never night o'er pale passed play rest ring rise rock rolled round rushing scene seemed shade shadows shore sing sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spread spring stars storm stream summer sweet swells tears tell thee thine things thou art thoughts tone tree turn vale voice watch waters waves weary wild winds wings woods young youthful
Página 35 - And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing floor.
Página 37 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
Página 35 - Week in. week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low.
Página 20 - A sister to the night !— Sleep not ! — thine image wakes for aye Within my watching breast: Sleep not! — from her soft sleep should fly, Who robs all hearts of rest. Nay, lady, from thy slumbers break, And make this darkness gay With looks, whose brightness well might make Of...
Página 95 - THE BELEAGUERED CITY. I HAVE read, in some old marvellous tale, Some legend strange and vague, That a midnight host of spectres pale Beleaguered the walls of Prague. Beside the Moldau's rushing stream, With the wan moon overhead, There stood, as in an awful dream, The army of the dead.
Página 212 - DOST thou idly ask to hear At what gentle seasons Nymphs relent, when lovers near Press the tenderest reasons ? Ah, they give their faith too oft To the careless wooer ; Maidens' hearts are always soft : Would that men's were truer!
Página 201 - But where are the sisters who hastened to greet The lowly Redeemer, and sit at his feet? I tread where the TWELVE in their wayfaring trod ; I stand where they stood with the CHOSEN OF GOD, — Where his blessing was heard and his lessons were taught, Where the blind were restored and the healing was wrought.
Página 192 - The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, the fir tree, the pine tree, and the box together, to beautify the place of my sanctuary; and I will make the place of my feet glorious.