The Cycle's Rim

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C. Scribner's sons, 1916 - American poetry - 71 pages
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Page 3 - The coral towers, and yet not thee, not thee! So lightly didst thou mount, blue rung o'er rung, The lustred ladder rippling from that land Of strangely boughed and wooing wildernesses. Province of dream unwaning, dream yet banned From sleepers in the sun; but thou, as presses The lark that feels his song, sped to thy sky. 0 unrepressed ! If thou wouldst choose be gone, What sea-charm then could stay thee, bid thee lie Too deep for cock-crow earth or heaven's dawn? Yet must I chant these broken, mortal...
Page 52 - TODAY I went among the mountain folk To hear the gentle talk most dear to me. I saw slow tears, and tenderness that woke From sternest bed to light a lamp for thee. And " Is it true? " hope asked and asked again, And " It is true," was all that I could say, And pride rose over love to hide gray pain As eyes tears might ungrace were turned away. So much they loved thee I was half decoyed By human warmth to feel thee near, but when I put my hand out all the earth was void, And vanished even these near-weeping...
Page 59 - ... have been brave attempts, to gather as costly a merchandise, for later copies of the famous model. The bounteous resources of life have left no lack of supplies; but few minds and hearts have been so rich in passion and imagination, as to purchase such a cargo as the story of Shakespeare's love. " O what a lover must thou be, old Time, With so much beauty to thy bosom folded ! The queens that reigned o'er monarchies of rhyme, And by new worship ever newly moulded; With all the Helens of the lyreless...
Page 6 - The clammy shade Of forest doubts clings now like faith that fills Cathedral air when holy touch is laid On saintly kneelers.

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