Famous Fugitive Poems

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Rossiter Johnson
H. Holt, 1908 - English poetry - 364 pages
 

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Page 200 - Bright with thy praise, Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise; So by my woes to be Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee! Or if on joyful wing Cleaving the sky, Sun, moon, and stars forgot, Upward I fly; Still all my song shall be,— Nearer,
Page 104 - T is the star-spangled banner! O, long may it wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave! And where is that band who so vauntingly swore That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion A home and a country should leave us no more ? Then- blood has
Page 86 - a State. WHAT constitutes a state ? Not high-raised battlement or labored mound, Thick wall or moated gate; Not cities proud with spires and turrets crowned; Not bays and broad-armed ports, Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride; Not starred and spangled courts, Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to
Page 200 - a cross That raiseth me; Still all my song shall be, Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee! Though, like the wanderer, The sun gone down, Darkness be over me, My rest a .stone; Yet in my dreams IM be Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee I There let the way appear Steps unto heaven; All that thou sendest
Page 115 - The brightest that beauty or revelry sips. And now, far removed from the loved habitation, The tear of regret will intrusively swell, As fancy reverts to my father's plantation, And sighs for the bucket that hangs in the well — The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket that hangs in the well I
Page 333 - ALEXANDER ANDERSON. THE night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one; Yet the light of a whole life dies When love is done. FRANCIS WILLIAM BOURDILLON.
Page 88 - green. Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year! Oh, could I fly, I 'd fly with thee! We 'd make, with joyful wing, Our annual visit o'er the globe, Attendants on the Spring. JOHN LOGAN.
Page 200 - to thee I There let the way appear Steps unto heaven; All that thou sendest me In mercy given; Angels to beckon me Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee I Then with my waking
Page 68 - T is not sic cauld that makes me cry, But my love's heart grown cauld to me When we came in by Glasgow town, We were a comely sight to see ; My love was clad in the black velvet, But had I wist before I kiss'd That love had been
Page 17 - ANONYMOUS. I CAN not eat but little meat — My stomach is not good ; But sure, I think that I can drink With him that wears a hood. Though I go bare, take ye no care , I am nothing a-cold — I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old. Back and side go bare, go bare;

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