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Agamemnon art thou beauty bosom breast breath bright brow cheek CHORUS CLYTEMNESTRA cold Cordelia dark dead dear death deep door doth dream Duke ELECTRA emerald creek eyes face faint fair fall feel flowers forever gaze golden grave grief hair hand harp hath hear heard heart heaven hope hour King King Solomon kiss lady land lean leaves life's light lips live lonely look Lord Alfred Lucile Luvois Lycus Matilda moon murmured neath never night o'er Odin once pain pale passed passion perchance PHOCIAN Queen Queen Guenevere rapture rose round Saint Saviour scorn seemed SEMI-CHORUS sighed sight silence sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star strange sweet Tannhauser tears thee thine things thought turned twixt voice wander warm weep wild wind woman words yore young youth
Page 147 - No life Can be pure in its purpose and strong in its strife And all life not be purer and stronger thereby.
Page 196 - We found the portrait there, in its place : We opened it by the tapers' shine : The gems were all unchanged : the face Was — neither his nor mine. " One nail drives out another, at least ! The face of the portrait there," I cried, " Is our friend's the Raphael-faced young Priest, Who confessed her when she died.
Page 401 - Talk not of genius baffled. Genius is master of man. \ Genius does what it must, and talent does what it can.
Page 391 - We all are changed. God judges for us best. God help us do our duty, and not shrink, And trust in heaven humbly for the rest. But blame us women not, if some appear Too cold at times ; and some too gay and light. Some griefs gnaw deep. Some woes are hard to bear. Who knows the Past ? and who can judge us right ? Ah, were we judged by what we might have been, And not by what we are, too apt to fall ! My little child — he sleeps and smiles between These thoughts and me. In heaven we shall know all...
Page 193 - Which she used to wear in her breast. It smelt so faint, and it smelt so sweet, It made me creep, and it made me cold ! Like the scent that steals from the crumbling sheet Where a mummy is half unrolled.
Page 129 - The dial Receives many shades, and each points to the sun. The shadows are many, the sunlight is one. Life's sorrows still fluctuate: God's love does not. And His love is unchanged, when it changes our lot. Looking up to this light, which is common to all, And down to these shadows, on each side, that fall In time's silent circle, so various for each, Is it nothing to know that they never can reach So far, but...
Page 204 - Mid Life's perplexing chequers made, And many a game with Fortune played; — What is it we have won? This, this at least, — if this alone: That never, never, never more, As in those old still nights of yore (Ere we were grown so sadly wise), Can you and I shut out the skies, Shut out the world and wintry weather, And, eyes exchanging warmth with eyes, Play chess, as then we played together!
Page 123 - Neath his feet roll her earthquakes : her solitudes spread To daunt him : her forces dispute his command : Her snows fall to freeze him : her suns burn to brand : Her seas yawn to engulf him : her rocks rise to crush : And the lion and leopard, allied, lurk to rush On their startled invader.
Page 390 - WHOM first we love, you know, we seldom wed. Time rules us all. And life, indeed, is not The thing we planned it out ere hope was dead. And then, we women cannot choose our lot. Much must be borne which it is hard to bear: Much given away which it were sweet to keep. God help us all! who need, indeed, His care. And yet, I know, the Shepherd loves His sheep.