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Copeland and Day, 1897 - American poetry - 187 pages
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Page 105 - LITTLE masters, hat in hand Let me in your presence stand, Till your silence solve for me This your threefold mystery. Tell me — for I long to know — How, in darkness there below, Was your fairy fabric spun, Spread and fashioned, three in one Did your gossips gold and blue, Sky and Sunshine, choose for you, Ere your triple forms were seen, Suited liveries of green ? Can ye, — if ye dwelt indeed Captives of a prison seed, — Like the Genie, once again Get you back into the grain ? Little masters,...
Page 129 - MY God has hid Himself from me Behind whatever else I see; Myself — the nearest mystery — As far beyond my grasp as He. And yet, in darkest night, I know, While lives a doubt-discerning glow, That larger lights above it throw These shadows in the vale below.
Page 24 - E'EN this, Lord, didst thou bless — This pain of sleeplessness — The livelong night, Urging God's gentlest angel from thy side, That anguish only might with thee abide Until the light. Yea, e'en the last and best, Thy victory and rest, Came thus to thee ; For 'twas while others calmly slept around, That thou alone in sleeplessness wast found, To comfort me.
Page 113 - Ah, whence, in sylvan solitudes remote. Hast learned the lore That breeds delight in every echoing note The woodlands o'er; As when, through slanting sun, descends the quickening shower ? Thy hermitage is peopled with the dreams That gladden sleep; Here Fancy dallies with delirious themes Mid shadows deep, Till eyes unused to tears, with wild emotions weep. We rise, alas, to find our visions fled! But thine remain. Night weaves of golden harmonies the thread. And fills thy brain With joys that overflow...
Page 7 - The Young Tenor": I woke ; the harbored melody Had crossed the slumber bar, And out upon the open sea Of consciousness, afar Swept onward with a fainter strain, As echoing the dream again. So soft the silver sound, and clear, Outpoured upon the night, That Silence seemed a listener O'erleaning with delight The slender moon, a finger-tip Upon the portal of her lip.
Page 70 - How far soe'er above; Nor we, the lingerers, wholly stay Apart from those we love: For spirits in eternity, As shadows in the sun, Reach backward into Time, as we, Like lifted clouds, reach on.
Page 114 - Seek' st naught of praise ; The empty plaudits of the emptier heart Taint not thy lays : Thy Maker's smile alone thy tuneful bosom sways. Teach me, thou warbling eremite, to sing Thy rhapsody ; Nor borne on vain ambition's vaunting wing, But led of thee, To rise from earthly dreams to hymn Eternity.
Page 124 - LO , now His deadliest foes prevail ! And where His bleeding footsteps fail, Like wolves upon a victim's trail, They gloat, in purple mockery, " Hail!*' O cloud ! O regal vesture torn ! O shadow on the shoulders borne ! O diadem ! — one starry thorn Shall blossom into Easter morn ! BEHOLD, the night of sorrow gone, Like Magdalen the tearful Dawn Goes forth with love's anointing sweet, To kiss again the Master's feet ! EASTER FLOWERS.
Page 126 - EASTER FLOWERS. WE are His witnesses; out of the dim, Dank region of Death we have risen with Him. Back from our sepulchre rolleth the stone, And Spring, the bright Angel, sits smiling thereon. We are His witnesses. See, where we lay The snow that late bound us is folded away ; And April, fair Magdalen, weeping anon, Stands flooded with light of the new-risen Sun!

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