What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Alfred Tennyson angels Annie anoder baby bairn beautiful blessed bloom breast breath bright brow Casa Wappy Charles Lamb Charlie cheek cheerful child Cotta Family dark dear delight Douglas Jerrold dreams eyes face fair father fear feel flowers Frederika Bremer gentle George Chapman Goethe gone H. W. Longfellow hair hand happy hath head hear heart heaven hope hour husband J. G. Holland kiss knew laugh life's light lips live Lizzie look Lord maiden married Matthew Pryor merry morning mother ne'er never night o'er old maid round rpHE S. T. Coleridge shine sigh sing smile soft song sorrow soul spirit sunshine sweet tears tell thee there's thine things Thomas Hood thou thought Twas umbrella Victor Hugo voice Washington Irving weep wife Willy woman young youth
Page 304 - Mysterious Night ! when our first Parent knew Thee from report divine, and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue? Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, Hesperus with the host of heaven came; And, lo! Creation widened in man's view.
Page 153 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.
Page 262 - The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made: Stronger by weakness, wiser, men become As they draw near to their eternal home. Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view That stand upon the threshold of the new.
Page 259 - I SAw him once before, As he passed by the door; And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan ; And he shakes his feeble head. That it seems as if he said,
Page 188 - Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny Rash and undutiful: Past all dishonour Death has left on her Only the beautiful.
Page 163 - Live and laugh, as boyhood can! Though the flinty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, Every morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew ; Every evening from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat: All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride, Lose the freedom of the sod, Like a colt's for work be shod, Made to tread the mills of toil, Up and down in ceaseless moil...
Page 154 - A whisper, and then a silence: Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting and planning together To take me by surprise. A sudden rush from the stairway, A sudden raid from the hall! By three doors left unguarded They enter my castle wall ! They climb up into my turret O'er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me; They seem to be everywhere.
Page 156 - Took the face-cloth from the face Yet she neither moved nor wept. Rose a nurse of ninety years, Set his child upon her knee — Like summer tempest...
Page 187 - One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate Gone to her death! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashion'd so slenderly, Young and so fair! Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing: Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully. Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly.
Page 29 - Had thrilled my guileless Genevieve ; The music and the doleful tale, The rich and balmy eve ; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, An undistinguishable throng, And gentle wishes long subdued, Subdued and cherished long ! She wept with pity and delight ; She blushed with love, and maiden shame ; And like the murmur of a dream, I heard her breathe my name. Her bosom heaved — she stepped aside, As conscious of my look she stept — Then suddenly with timorous eye, She fled to me and wept.