"Go Forth and Find."

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Cassell Publishing Company, 1895 - 239 pages
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Page 236 - The marsh brags ten: looped on his breast they lie. Oh, what if a sound should be made! Oh, what if a bound should be laid To this bow-and-string tension of beauty and silence aspring,— To the bend of beauty the bow, or the hold of silence the string! I fear me, I fear me yon dome of diaphanous gleam Will break as a bubble o'er-blown in a dream,— Yon dome of too-tenuous tissues of space and of night, Over-weighted with stars, over-freighted with light, Over-sated with beauty and silence, will...
Page 236 - If a bound of degree to this grace be laid, Or a sound or a motion made. But no: it is made: list! somewhere, — mystery, where? In the leaves? in the air? In my heart? is a motion made: 'Tis a motion of dawn, like a flicker of shade on shade.
Page 235 - Each winding creek in grave entrancement lies A rhapsody of morning-stars. The skies Shine scant with one forked galaxy, — The marsh brags ten: looped on his breast they lie. Oh, what if a sound should be made ! Oh, what if a bound should be laid To this bow-and-string tension of beauty and silence a-spring, To the...
Page 236 - A rhapsody of morning-stars. The skies Shine scant with one forked galaxy, — The marsh brags ten: looped on his breast they lie. Oh, what if a sound should be made! Oh, what if a bound should be laid To this bow-and-string tension of beauty and silence a-spring, — To the bend of beauty the bow, or the hold of silence the string! I fear me, I fear me yon dome of diaphanous gleam 90 Will break as a bubble o'er-blown in a dream...
Page 172 - My soul to-day Is far away, Sailing the Vesuvian Bay; My winged boat, A bird afloat, Swims round the purple peaks remote: — Round purple peaks It sails, and seeks Blue inlets and their crystal creeks, Where high rocks throw, Through deeps below, A duplicated golden glow. Far, vague, and dim The mountains swim; While, on Vesuvius' misty brim, With outstretched hands, The gray smoke stands O'erlooking the volcanic lands.
Page 237 - But the air and my heart and the earth are a-thrill, And look where the wild duck sails round the bend of the river, And look where a passionate shiver Expectant is bending the blades Of the marsh-grass in serial shimmers and shades, And invisible wings, fast fleeting, fast fleeting, Are beating The dark overhead as my heart beats, - and steady and free Is the ebb-tide flowing from marsh to sea (Run home, little streams, With your lapfulls of stars and dreams), And a sailor unseen is hoisting a-peak,...
Page 20 - O ! turne thy rudder hitherward awhile Here may thy storme-bett vessell safely ryde, This is the Port of rest from troublous toyle, The worldes sweet In from paine and wearisome turmoyle.
Page 237 - Expectant is bending the blades Of the marsh-grass in serial shimmers and shades, — And invisible wings, fast fleeting, fast fleeting, Are beating The dark overhead as my heart beats, — and steady and free Is the ebb-tide flowing from marsh to sea — (Run home, little streams, With your lapfuls of stars and dreams), — And a sailor unseen is hoisting a-peak, For list, down the inshore curve of the creek How merrily flutters the sail, — And lo, in the East ! Will the East unveil ? The East...
Page 237 - tis palpable: low multitudinous stirring Upwinds through the woods; the little ones, softly conferring, Have settled my lord's to be looked for; so; they are still; But the air and my heart and the earth are a-thrill, — And look where the wild duck sails round the bend of the river, — And look where a passionate shiver Expectant is bending the blades Of the marsh-grass in serial shimmers and shades...
Page 136 - The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dew did drip— Till clomb above the eastern bar The horned Moon, with one bright star Within the nether tip.

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