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Page 184 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Page 9 - DO you ask what the birds say ? The sparrow, the dove, The linnet and thrush say, " I love and I love ! " In the winter they're silent — the wind is so strong, What it says, I don't know, but it sings a loud song. But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather, And singing, and loving — all come back together. But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love, The green fields below him, the blue sky above, That he sings, and he sings ; and for ever sings he — " I love my Love, and my...
Page 84 - He's nigh lost his wits. With a bridge of white mist Columbkill he crosses, On his stately journeys From Slieveleague to Rosses ; Or going up with music On cold starry nights, To sup with the Queen Of the gay Northern Lights.
Page 166 - Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat-- Come hither, come hither, come hither! Here shall we see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i' the sun, Seeking the food he eats And pleased with what he gets-- Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Page 248 - A FAREWELL MY fairest child, I have no song to give you; No lark could pipe to skies so dull and grey: Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you For every day. Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; Do noble things, not dream them, all day long: And so make life, death, and that vast for-ever One grand, sweet song.
Page 167 - And loves to live i' the sun, Seeking the food he eats And pleased with what he gets, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.
Page 83 - UP the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather! Down along the rocky shore Some make their home, They live on crispy pancakes Of yellow tide-foam ; Some in the reeds Of the black mountain lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs, All night awake.
Page 77 - And while on her pillow she softly lay, She knew nothing more till again it was day; And all things said to the beautiful sun, "Good morning, good morning! our work is begun.
Page 76 - A FAIR little girl sat under a tree Sewing as long as her eyes could see ; Then smoothed her work and folded it right, And said, " Dear work, goodnight, goodnight ! ' Such a number of rooks came over her head, Crying " Caw, caw ! " on their way to bed, She said, as she watched their curious flight, " Little black things, good night, good night ! ' The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed, The sheep's "Bleat!