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Books Books 1 - 10 of 60 on And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine; Against the red throb of its sunset-heart....  
" And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine; Against the red throb of its sunset-heart I laid my own to beat, And share commingling heat; But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart. In vain my tears were wet on Heaven's grey cheek. For ah !... "
Poems - Page 51
by Francis Joseph Thompson - 1893
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The Atlantic monthly, Volume 112

Philip Gengembre Hubert - 1913
...have always found in Christ. When science has answered her last question, man still will be saying, Nature, poor step-dame, cannot slake my drouth; Let...of sky, and show me The breasts o' her tenderness. A HAY-BARN IDYL BY JOHN BURROUGHS EVERY farm boy knows how much wild life ebbs and flows about a country...
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Evolution of Expression Volume IV - Revised

Charles Wesley Emerson - 1905
...commingling heat; But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart. v1. Nature, poor stepdame, cannot shake my drouth ; Let her, if she would owe me, Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me The breast o' her tenderness : Never did any milk of hers once bless my thirsting mouth. Nigh and nigh...
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Poems of sentiment and reflection

Poetry - 1912
...heat; But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart. In vain my tears were wet on Heaven's gray cheek. For ah! we know not what each other says, These...silences. Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake my drouth; The Hound of Heaven 3021 Let her, if she would owe me, Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me...
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The Catholic University Bulletin, Volume 18

1912
...one by one, they fell from him and left him in want and misery because he had looked to them alone. Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake my drouth; Let her, if she would owe me, V Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me The breasts o' her tenderness; Never did any milk of...
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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 112

Current events - 1913
...have always found in Christ. When science has answered her last question, man still will be saying, Nature, poor step-dame, cannot slake my drouth; Let...of sky, and show me The breasts o" her tenderness. A HAY-BARN IDYL BY JOHN BURROUGHS EVERY farm boy knows how much wild life ebbs and flows about a country...
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Some Evidences of Mysticism in English Poetry of the Nineteenth Century

Sister Mary Pius Neenan - English poetry - 1916 - 85 pages
...unsubstantial, with no power to stay in the deeper cares and sorrows of life—her shrines were unavailing. "Nature, poor step-dame, cannot slake my drouth; Let her, if she would owe, Drop down yon blue bosom veil of sky, and show me The breasts o' her tenderness: Never did any milk...
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The English Poets: Addison to Blake

Thomas Humphry Ward - English poetry - 1918
...wet on Heaven's grey cheek. For ah! we know not what each other says, These things and I; in sound / speak — Their sound is but their stir, they speak...drouth, Let her, if she would owe me, Drop yon blue bosom- veil of sky, and show me The breasts o' her tenderness: Never did any milk of hers once bless...
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The Home Book of Verse: American and English, 1580-1918, Volume 2

American poetry - 1918 - 4009 pages
...wet on Heaven's gray cheek. For ah! we know not what each other says, These things and I; in sound / B m t ` 4[Q stcpdame, cannot slake my drouth; Let her, if she would owe me, Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and...
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That One Face: Studies of the Place of Jesus in the Minds of Poets and Prophets

Richard Roberts - Jesus Christ - 1919 - 199 pages
...wet on Heaven's grey cheek, For ah, we know not what each other says, These things and I ; in sound / speak, Their sound is but their stir ; they speak...silences. Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake my drouth; . Never did any milk of hers once bless My thirsting mouth." ' He had knocked at every door; and none...
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The Hound of Heaven: An Interpretation

Hound of heaven - 1921 - 89 pages
...Heaven's grey cheek. 95 For, ah! we know not what each other says, These tilings and I; in sound / speak — Their sound is but their stir, they speak...cannot slake my drouth; Let her, if she would owe me, 100 Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me The breasts o' her tenderness: Never did any milk...
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