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Alfred Tennyson Alice Cary arms beautiful bells bless blood brave breast breath Bregenz brow Charles Dickens child Claudius clouds Commodus cried dark dead dear death Decemvir deep dream Earth eyes face fair fall father fear feet fellah flowers gazed girl Goody Cole grave hand happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven honour hope Kate Shelly King kiss Lady laugh Lictors light lips live look look'd Lord Mac-Morlan morning mother never night o'er once Parthenia pass'd poor prayer R. H. Dana ring river round S. T. Coleridge Sandalphon seem'd shore shout silence smile snow song sorrow soul speak spirit stand star stood sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought tree turn'd Twas Virg Virginia voice waves wild William Wordsworth wood words young
Page 199 - O, well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O, well for the sailor-lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But, O, for the touch of a vauish'd hand, And the sound of a voice
Page 18 - waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest; Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Th' applause of listening senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter
Page 133 - great men reach'd and kept Were not attain'd by sudden flight; But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night. Standing on what too long we bore With shoulders bent and downcast eyes, We may discern — unseen before — A path to higher destinies. Nor deem th' irrevocable Past As wholly wasted, wholly
Page 130 - The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ; Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings,—yet the dead are
Page 209 - wanton'd with thy breakers, — they to me Were a delight; and, if the freshening sea Made them a terror, 'twas a pleasing fear ; For I was, as it were, a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane, — as I do here.
Page 307 - ALFRED TENNYSON. HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of death Rode the six hundred. Forward the Light Brigade I Charge for the guns, he said. Into the valley of death Rode the six hundred. Forward the Light Brigade ! Was there a man
Page 328 - 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 ; To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise.
Page 331 - and he rode all alone. So faithful in love and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. He stay'd not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone; He swam the Eske river where ford there was none ; But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, — the gallant came late
Page 131 - of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustain'd 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. THE
Page 473 - TENNYSON. THE splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story ; The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying: Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.