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ARNOLD WINKELRIED AUTUMN MUSINGS BATTLE OF BLENHEIM beauty beneath bird Birdie blessed breast breath bright brow canst cheer child clouds Crocodile customed hill dark dead dear death delight dost doth dream E'en earth fair father fear flowers fly away home glory gone grave green hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hill Inchcape rock John Barleycorn king lady Lady-bird land Leigh Hunt light live look Lord loud Mabel maun MIDSUMMER DAY mind Miss Lamb moon mother mountain mourn ne'er never night o'er Patrick Spence poor praise Queen rock rose round sail Samian wine shining shining book shore silent sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thought tree unto voice waves weary weep wild wind wings wood
Page 322 - This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
Page 174 - Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. " Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. " Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. "Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timber, never gives ; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then...
Page 135 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine ! Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod; They have left unstained what there they found, — Freedom to worship God.
Page 135 - And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er. When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Page 320 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake, To perish never; Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, Nor Man nor Boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy!
Page 357 - Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go On the light fantastic toe, And in thy right hand lead with thee The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty ; And if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew To live with her, and live with thee In unreproved pleasures free...
Page 410 - I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech ; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach.
Page 365 - And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Page 156 - SHE was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.