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" The buried brooklet could not hear, The music of whose liquid lip Had been to us companionship, And, in our lonely life, had grown To have an almost human tone. "
The Land We Love - Page 245
1866
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SHOW-BOUND

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER - 1866
...the unmeaning beat Of ghostly finger-tips of sleet. Beyond the circle of our hearth No welcome sound of toil or mirth Unbound the spell, and testified...lonely life, had grown To have an almost human tone. 15 As night drew on, and, from the crest Of wooded knolls that ridged the west, The sun, a snow-blown...
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The Living Age ..., Volume 93

Eliakim Littell, Robert S. Littell - Language Arts & Disciplines - 1867
...the unmeaning beat Of ghostly finger-tips of sleet* Beyond the circle of our hearth No welcome sound of toil or mirth Unbound the spell, and testified...lonely life, had grown To have an almost human tone. Who they were who sat round the fire, that snow-bound winter time, and thoughts of where they are now,...
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A Library of Poetry and Song: Being Choice Selections from the Best Poets

William Cullen Bryant - English poetry - 1871 - 789 pages
...the unmeaning beat Of ghostly finger-tips of sleet. Beyond the circle of our hearth No welcome sound liijuid lip Had been to us companionship, Anil, in our lonely life, had grown To have an almost human...
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Scrambles Amongst the Alps in the Years 1860-69

Edward Whymper - Alps - 1871 - 432 pages
...had ceased to fall, and the trickling water to murmur " The music of whose liquid lip Hiul becn to us companionship, And, in our lonely life, had grown To have an almost human tone."* It was bitterly cold. Water froze hard in a bottle under my head. Not slll-prising, as we were actually...
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A library of poetry and song: being choice selections from the best poets

William Cullen Bryant - American poetry - 1872 - 789 pages
...the unmeaning beat Of ghostly finger-tips of sleet. Beyond the circle of our hearth No welcome sound of toil or mirth Unbound the spell, and testified...lonely life, had grown To have an almost human tone. As night drew on, and, from the crest Of wooded knolls that ridged the west, The sun, a snow-blown...
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Literature of the English Language: Comprising Representative Selections ...

Ephraim Hunt - American literature - 1872 - 640 pages
...welcome sound of toil or mirth Unbound the spell, and testified Of human life and thought ontside. We minded that the sharpest ear The buried brooklet...lonely life had grown To have an almost human tone. As night drew on, and from the crest Of wooded knolls that ridged the west, The sun, a snow-blown traveler,...
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Literature of the English Language: Comprising Representative Selections ...

American literature - 1872 - 640 pages
...the unmeaning beat Of ghostly finger-tips of sleet. Beyond the circle of our hearth No welcome sound of toil or mirth Unbound the spell, and testified Of human life and thought ontside. We minded that the sharpest ear The buried brooklet could not hear, The music of whose liquid...
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The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier

John Greenleaf Whittier - 1873 - 395 pages
...the unmeaning beat Of ghostly finger-tips of sleet. Beyond the circle of our hearth No welcome sound of toil or mirth Unbound the spell, and testified...lonely life, had grown To have an almost human tone. As night drew on, and, from the crest Of wooded knolls that ridged the west, The sun, a snow-blown...
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The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier

John Greenleaf Whittier - 1873 - 395 pages
...the unmeaning beat Of ghostly finger-tips of sleet. Beyond the circle of our hearth No welcome sound of toil or mirth Unbound the spell, and testified...lonely life, had grown To have an almost human tone. As night drew on, and, from the crest Of wooded knolls that ridged the west, The sun, a snow-blown...
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A Library of Poetry and Song: Being Choice Selections from the Best Poets

William Cullen Bryant - American poetry - 1873
...outside. We minded that the sharpest ear The buried brooklet could not hear, The music of whose liiruid lip Had been to us companionship, And, in our lonely life, had grown To have an almost human tone. As night drew on, and, from the crest Of wooded knolls that ridged the west, The sun, a snow-blown...
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