His First Leave

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Charles Scribner's Sons, 1908 - 308 pages
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Page 272 - IF I have faltered more or less In my great task of happiness ; If I have moved among my race And shown no glorious morning face ; If beams from happy human eyes Have moved me not ; if morning skies, Books, and my food, and summer rain Knocked on my sullen heart in vain : — Lord, thy most pointed pleasure take And stab my spirit broad awake...
Page 207 - As easy might I from myself depart As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie : That is my home of love : if I have ranged, Like him that travels I return again, Just to the time, not with the time exchanged, So that myself bring water for my stain.
Page 223 - ... out From the gold bar of Heaven; Her eyes were deeper than the depth Of waters stilled at even; She had three lilies in her hand And the stars in her hair were seven. Her robe, ungirt from clasp to hem, No wrought flowers did adorn, But a white rose of Mary's gift, For service meetly worn; Her hair, that lay along her back Was yellow like ripe corn.
Page 197 - And yet — she has not spoke so long! What if heaven be that, fair and strong At life's best, with our eyes upturned Whither life's flower is first discerned, We, fixed so, ever should so abide? What if we still ride on, we two With life for ever old yet new, Changed not in kind but in degree. The instant made eternity, — And heaven just prove that I and she Ride, ride together, for ever ride?
Page 232 - Justice!" exclaimed Carleton, a faint smile playing for an instant round his lips. "Justice, when there were no witnesses! Oh, that the dead could speak!" He turned abruptly and prepared to leave the room. Brabazon called after him. "You must give me your word of honour that you will not attempt to leave Penporran before the inquest.
Page 294 - Some fruit for him that dresseth me. But we are still too young or old ; The man is gone, Before we do our wares unfold : So we freeze on, Until the grave increase our cold.
Page 295 - I'm no' wantin' your conversation. [A silence. MARY smooths WALTER'S hair. MARY P. Can ye sew cushions and can ye sew sheets, And can ye sing Balaloo When the bairnie greets ? Then ho and baw birdie Then ho and baw lamb, Then ho and baw birdie, my bonnie wee lamb.
Page 207 - Go, little book, and wish to all Flowers in the garden, meat in the hall, A bin of wine, a spice of wit, A house with lawns enclosing it, A living river by the door, A nightingale in the sycamore!
Page 30 - All round the house is the jet-black night; It stares through the window-pane; It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light, And it moves with the moving flame. Now my little heart goes a-beating like a drum, With the breath of the Bogie in my hair; And all round the candle the crooked shadows come, And go marching along up the stair.
Page 1 - ... the Villanelle; And, filled with sweetness, as a shell Is filled with sound, and launched in time, It serves its purpose passing well. Still fair to see and good to smell As in the quaintness of its prime, A dainty thing's the Villanelle, It serves its purpose passing well. WE Henley. VILLANELLE In the clatter of the train Is a promise brisk and bright.

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