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Page 86 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Page 83 - But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour, Nothing further then he uttered, not a feather then he fluttered, Till I scarcely more than muttered, — "Other friends have flown before; On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.
Page 248 - When Death strikes down the innocent and young, for every fragile form from which he lets the panting spirit free, a hundred virtues rise, in shapes of mercy, charity, and love, to walk the world and bless it. Of every tear that sorrowing mortals shed on such green graves, some good is born, some gentler nature comes. In the Destroyer's steps there spring up bright creations that defy his power, and his dark path becomes a way of light to Heaven.
Page 71 - Tiber! father Tiber! To whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms Take thou in charge this day!" So he spake, and speaking, sheathed The good sword by his side, And with his harness on his back Plunged headlong in the tide.
Page 120 - Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite; Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring in the common love of good. Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be.
Page 274 - Averse to personal publicity, we veiled our own names under those of Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell; the ambiguous choice being dictated by a sort of conscientious scruple at assuming Christian names positively masculine, while we did not like to declare ourselves women, because - without at that time suspecting that our mode of writing and thinking was not what is called 'feminine...
Page 140 - And the better in memory to fix The place of the children's last retreat, They called it the Pied Piper's Street— Where any one playing on pipe or tabor, Was sure for the future to lose his labor.
Page 167 - Dreamer of dreams, born out of my due time, Why should I strive to set the crooked straight ? Let it suffice me that my murmuring rhyme Beats with light wing against the ivory gate. Telling a tale not too importunate To those who in the sleepy region stay, Lulled by the singer of an empty day.
Page 139 - The music stopped and I stood still, And found myself outside the Hill, Left alone against my will, To go now limping as before, And never hear of that country more!