A Woman Sold: And Other Poems (Google eBook)

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Macmillan and Company, 1867 - 288 pages
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Page 116 - That he in that he erreth doth but seem. I do not soothe me with a vain belief; He hath done evil, therefore is my thought Of him made sadness with no common grief. But thou, what good or truth has in thee wrought That thou shouldst hold thee more than him in aught ? He will redeem his nature, he is great In inward purpose past thy power to scan, And he will bear his meed of evil fate And lift him from his fall a nobler man, Hating his error as a great one can. And what art thou to look on him and...
Page 116 - That I should fail to know the wrong from right. He hath done evil — let not any tie Of birth or love draw moral sense awry. And though my trust in him is yet full strong I may not hold him guiltless, in the dream That wrong forgiven is no longer wrong, And, looking on his error fondly deem That he in that he erreth doth but seem. I do not soothe me with a vain belief; He hath done evil, therefore is my thought Of him made sadness with no common grief. But thou, what good or truth has in thee wrought...
Page 90 - O golden-lighted river, A love-gift has been given me, And which of you is giver? 1 came upon you something sad, Musing a mournful measure, Now all my heart in me is glad With a quick sense of pleasure. I came upon you with a heart Half-sick of life's vexed story, And now it grows of you a part, Steeped in your golden glory. A smile into my heart has crept And laughs through all my being, New joy into my life has leapt, A joy of only seeing!
Page 116 - That thou shouldst hold thee more than him in aught ? He will redeem his nature, he is great In inward purpose past thy power to scan, And he will bear his meed of evil fate And lift him from his fall a nobler man, Hating his error as a great one can. And what art thou to look on him and say ' Ah ! he has fallen whom they praised, but know My foot is sure '? Upon thy level way Are there the perils of the hills of snow? Yea, he has fallen, but wherefore art thou low ? Speak no light word of him, for...
Page 292 - If Mrs. Webster only remains true to herself, she will assuredly take a higher rank as a poet than any woman has yet done.
Page 92 - I should not answer aught that they should speak, Nor look my meaning out of earnest eyes, Nor press the reverent hands that mine should seek ; But, lying there in such an awful guise, Like some strange presence from a world unknown Unmoved by any human sympathies, Seem strange to them, and dreadfully alone, Vacant to love of theirs or agony, Having no pulse in union with their own. Gazing henceforth upon infinity With a calm consciousness devoid of change, Watching the current of the years pass...
Page 106 - ... freed thee wherefore art thou bond ? And if his cup hold poison to the rim, Dregged with life's malady beyond life's cure, Why should its bitter drops to thine o'erbrim ? And yet, if thou hast love so deep and pure That, whatsoever change the years shall bring, Before the sight of God it may endure, And if it seem to thee a holy thing That, should he need it in his day of pain, Thou mayst have sister power of comforting, Well, if thy love be thus, let it remain ; Thou wilt not fear to name it...
Page 122 - You will not say those were your saddest years, In which you sorrowed. Void is worse than pain. And many a rich bloom grows because of tears ; And we see Heaven's lights more when our lights wane. Ah ! who knows what is ill from what is well ? And we, who see no more than we are shown Of others...
Page 122 - ... that old plain, The stony smiler on the desert sand, Smiling upon old pride's long-cycled wane, Smiling unchanged upon a saddened land. She saw the glories of the ancient days, She ever sees the tombs of buried kings, She has not lost the quiet of her gaze Looking a silence deep with solemn things. The great sand-surges press upon her close, She in eternal calm looks out above — And who shall look upon a waste of woes With such grand patience which no change may move ? Yet wait ; let the great...
Page 91 - So pain has on my weakness worked its will), And they should come at morn and look on me Lying more white than I am wont, and still In the strong silence of unchanging sleep, And feel upon my brow the deepening chill, And know we gathered to His time-long keep, The quiet watcher over all men's rest, And weep as those around a death-bed weep— There would no anguish throb my vacant breast, No tear-drop trickle down my stony cheek, No smile of long farewell say

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