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Copeland and Day, 1897 - 172 pages
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Page 72 - DANCE to the beat of the rain, little Fern, And spread out your palms again, And say, " Tho' the sun Hath my vesture spun, He had labored, alas, in vain, But for the shade That the Cloud hath made, And the gift of the Dew and the Rain.
Page 25 - Evolution Out of the dusk a shadow, Then, a spark; Out of the cloud a silence, Then, a lark; Out of the heart a rapture, Then, a pain; Out of the dead, cold ashes, Life again.
Page 56 - IT is the mountain to the sea That makes a messenger of me: And, lest I loiter on the way And lose what I am sent to say, He sets his reverie to song And bids me sing it all day long. Farewell ! for here the stream is slow, And I have many a mile to go.
Page 9 - I KNEW she lay above me, Where the casement all the night Shone, softened with a phosphor glow Of sympathetic light, And that her fledgling spirit pure Was pluming fast for flight. Each tendril throbbed and quickened As I nightly climbed apace, And could scarce restrain the blossoms When, anear the destined place, Her gentle whisper thrilled me Ere I gazed upon her face. I waited, darkling, till the dawn Should touch me into bloom, While all my being panted To outpour its first perfume, When, lo!...
Page 81 - TO the cradle-bough of a naked tree, Benumbed with ice and snow, A Christmas dream brought suddenly A birth of mistletoe. The shepherd stars from their fleecy cloud Strode out on the night to see; The Herod north-wind blustered loud To rend it from the tree. But the old year took it for a sign, And blessed it in his heart: " With prophecy of peace divine, Let now my soul depart.
Page 21 - OVER the sea, over the sea, My love he is gone to a far countrie; But he brake a golden ring with me The pledge of his faith to be. Over the sea, over the sea, He comes no more from the far countrie; But at night, where the new moon loved to be, Hangs the half of a ring for me.
Page 80 - A LITTLE Boy of heavenly birth, But far from home to-day, Comes down to find His ball, the Earth, That Sin has cast away. O comrades, let us one and all Join in to get Him back His ball ! FATHER DAMIEN BY JOHN B.
Page 4 - And dost thou lead him hence with thee, O setting sun, And leave the shadows all to me When he is gone? Ah, if my grief his guerdon be, My dark his light, I count each loss felicity, And bless the night.
Page 108 - And pray, who are you ? " Said the violet blue To the Bee, with surprise At his wonderful size. In her eye-glass of dew. " I, madam," quoth he, " Am a publican Bee, Collecting the tax Of honey and wax.

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