The Splendid Village: Corn Law Rhymes: And Other Poems

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B. Steill, 1833 - Bread - 284 pages

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Page 122 - Our souls have holy light within, And every form of grief and sin Shall see and feel its fire. By earth, and hell, and heav'n, The shroud of souls is riven ! Mind, mind alone, Is light, and hope, and life, and power!
Page 59 - WHERE the poor cease to pay, Go, lov'd one, and rest ! Thou art wearing away To the land of the blest. Our father is gone. Where the wrong'd are forgiven, And that dearest one, Thy husband, in heaven. No toil in despair, No tyrant, no slave, No bread-tax is there, With a maw like the grave.
Page 158 - ... away, with all their Kings. And still I wander'd with forgotten things, In pilgrimage with Death, an age-long day, A year of anxious ages — so methought — Till rose a living world in morning grey, And light seem'd born of darkness — light, which brought Before my soul the coasts of land remote. "Hail, holy light, offspring of heav'n, first-born, Or of the eternal, co-eternal beam ! " Through worlds of darkness led, and travel-worn, Again I felt thy glowing, brightening gleam, Again I greeted...
Page 144 - tis Morthen spire ! The sun is risen ! cries Stanedge, tipped with fire ; On Norwood's flowers the dew-drops shine and shake ; Up, sluggards, up! and drink the morning breeze. The birds on cloud-left Osgathorpe awake; And Wincobank is waving all his trees O'er subject towns, and farms, and villages, And gleaming streams, and wood, and waterfalls.
Page 125 - Let poor men's children, pleas'd to read his lays, Love, for his sake, the scenes where he hath been ; And when he ends his pilgrimage of days, Let him be buried where the grass is green ; Where daisies, blooming earliest, linger late To hear the bee his busy note prolong : — There let him slumber, and in peace await The dawning morn, far from the sensual throng, Who scorn the windflower's blush, the red-breast's lonely song.
Page 142 - For he must preach beneath th' autumnal tree : She lights her fire, and soon the board is spread With Sabbath coffee, toast, and cups for three. Pale he descends ; again she starts to see His hollow cheek, and feels they soon must part ! But they shall meet again— that hope is sure; And, Oh ! she venerates his mind and heart, For he is pure, if mortal e'er was pure ! His words, his silence, teach her to endure ! And then, he helps to feed her orphan'd five...
Page 144 - Like angel's wings ; while skies of blue and gold Stoop to Miles Gordon on the mountain's brow. Behold the Great Unpaid ! the prophet, lo! Sublime he stands beneath the Gospel tree, And Edmund stands on Shirecliffe at his side...
Page 180 - I cannot come, with broken heart, to sigh O'er his loved dust, and strew with flowers his turf; His pillow hath no cover but the surf; I may not pour the soul-drop from mine eye Near his cold bed : he slumbers in the wave ! Oh ! I will love the sea, because it is his grave ! LESSON XCVII.
Page 122 - Lo, heaven's bright bow is glad! Lo, trees and flowers, all clad In glory, bloom ! And shall the mortal sons of God Be senseless as the trodden clod, And darker than the tomb ? No, by the mind of man I By the swart artisan ! By God, our sire!
Page 64 - WHAT IS BAD GOVERNMENT ? What is bad government, thou slave, Whom robbers represent ? What is bad government, thou knave, Who lov'st bad government ? It is the deadly Will, that takes What labour ought to keep ; It is the deadly Power, that makes Bread dear, and labour cheap.

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