Poems of Places: England and Wales (Google eBook)

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J. R. Osgood, 1876 - Poetry of places
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Page 60 - My liege, I did deny no prisoners. But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat...
Page 34 - MY HEART aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Page 175 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
Page 35 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Page 154 - THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN. AT the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears, Hangs a thrush that sings loud it has sung for three years ; Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard In the silence of morning the song of the bird. Tis a note of enchantment ; what ails her ? She sees A mountain ascending, a vision of trees ; Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.
Page 234 - The furious German comes, with his clarions and his drums, His bravoes of Alsatia, and pages of Whitehall; They are bursting on our flanks! Grasp your pikes! Close your ranks! For Rupert never comes but to conquer or to fall. They are here! They rush on! We are broken! We are gone! Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast. O Lord, put forth Thy might! O Lord, defend the right! Stand back to back, in God's name, and fight it to the last!
Page 153 - ON THE DEATH OF DR, LEV KIT. CONDEMNED to hope's delusive mine, As on we toil from day to day, By sudden blasts, or slow decline, Our social comforts drop away. Well tried through many a varying year, See Levett to the grave descend, Officious, innocent, sincere, Of every friendless name the friend.
Page 117 - Receding and speeding, And shocking and rocking, And darting and parting, And threading and spreading, And whizzing and hissing, And dripping and skipping, And hitting and splitting, And shining and twining, And rattling and battling, And shaking and...
Page 36 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Page 91 - I sat and spun within the doore, My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes; The level sun, like ruddy ore, Lay sinking in the barren skies; And dark against day's golden death She moved where Lindis wandereth, My sonne's faire wife, Elizabeth. 'Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!' calling, Ere the early dews were falling, Farre away I heard her song. 'Cusha! Cusha!

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