Facts and Fancies: A Collection of Poems (Google eBook)

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George MacDonald & Company, 1874 - American poetry - 240 pages
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Page 183 - No hint of beauty lingers where The Mirage spread her canopy And moved the soul to ecstasy. John Brayshaw Kaye. THE LITTLE LONE GRAVE ON THE PLAINS. TWO days had the train been waiting, Laid off from the forward tramp, When the sick child drooped And died, and they scooped Out a little grave near camp. Then clad in its scanty garments, And wrapped in a threadbare shawl, They laid it away From the light of day, Amid tears and sobs from all. Then silently covered it over, And heaped up the sandy ground,...
Page 114 - In his cutaway coat and crimson hood, Drumming for meat, and a home so good In the old oak's heart demanding. IN THE DEEP, TANGLED FOREST. IN THE deep, tangled forest I roamed when a boy, Absorbed and enchanted by solitude's spell, Till I grew a young hermit and found sweetest joy Where Nature, untrammeled, primeval, did dwell. The shy, woodland denizens all seemed my friends, And with cautious timidity oft would draw near, Urged on by the power curiosity lends, In confidence partly, and partly in...
Page 114 - ... untrammeled, primeval, did dwell. The shy, woodland denizens all seemed my friends, And with cautious timidity oft would draw near, Urged on by the power curiosity lends, In confidence partly, and partly in fear. The coo of the pigeon, the morning dove's note Were sounds that delighted my too pensive ear : And the pheasant's wild tattoo, loud beaten by rote To the song of the thrush, full of music and cheer. The...
Page 115 - Related a story addressed to my soul ; And the autumn's sere leaves, as they fell from the trees, Awakened strange feelings I scarce could control. 'T was a pleasure to climb up the steep, jutting cliff, And stray 'long the smooth, pebbly beach of the lake; To launch on the waters the miniature skiff, Or thread the wild maze of the vine-tangled brake. To gaze from the bluff on the clear, placid bay, Where wild water-fowls swam, in such proud grace, along, For naught seemed so free and so happy as...
Page 204 - The black iron monster, which sprung like a dream From the brain of great Stephenson, bears us along, With a clatter of wheels and a hissing of steam, At a rate that deserves to be mentioned in song. Then, too, there 's the true ''Yankee notion...
Page 205 - I have skimmed o'er the plain on the true-mettled steed, And a wild inspiration has thrilled ev'ry nerve, While testing the antelope's marvelous speed, Or shying the buffalo into a curve When the...
Page 203 - When the steam - breathing coursers speed on like the wind, While the varying creak of their footsteps in flight, And the clear tinkling bells, leave sweet echoes behind. But the principal charm of this much - talked - of ride Is the fair blusing damsel so close to one's side.
Page 205 - s exultant and buoyant as air, And nothing is felt of the burden of care, — Wild, reckless bewilderment ! But, to resume, Even this falls far short of a ride down a flume. Then in...
Page 219 - ... eastern verge of day. Northward are spread the Truckee Meads, Where Truckee River winding speeds Toward the foothills, where lies hid The haunted Lake of Pyramid ; In which the flashing river pours The current of its liquid stores. There like a sullen pool it stands, Evaporates and feeds the sands...
Page 205 - Then arising like ghosts from the grave fresh exhumed. O, 'tis sport to be " chuted," but more to be

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