A Garden of Peace: A Medley in Quietude |
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antiquarian asked atheist beautiful beds believe border brick brought called carved Castle century CHAPTER Cheshire Cheese Church colour course cried dear Dorothy Dutch garden echeveria England English garden fancy feel feet flowers Formal Garden forty Friswell garden design Garden of Peace Gehazi give globe artichoke grass ground H. J. Byron hanging gardens heard herbaceous herbaceous border Heywood High Street House Garden hundred Iolanthe Irving island knew landscape lawn lines living look marble matter months Nature never once pergola Perpendicular Period pillar planted play poem poet pounds Princess's Theatre recollect remember Rosamund roses screen-wall seemed seen shillings smile sort stone story suggested sure talk tell Temple Tennyson terrace theatre thing thought thousand tion to-day told topiary town trees Treillage verse wall wallflowers wonder word Yardley Parva
Popular passages
Page 183 - All these he saw; but what he fain had seen He could not see, the kindly human face, Nor ever hear a kindly voice, but heard The myriad shriek of wheeling ocean-fowl, The league-long roller thundering on the reef, The moving whisper of huge trees that branch'd And blossom'd in the zenith, or the sweep Of some precipitous rivulet to the wave...
Page 185 - Then the third night after this, While Enoch slumber'd motionless and pale, And Miriam watch'd and dozed at intervals, There came so loud a calling of the sea, That all the houses in the haven rang. He woke, he rose, he spread his arms abroad Crying with a loud voice ' a sail ! a sail ! I am saved ' ; and so fell back and spoke no more. So past the strong heroic soul away. And when they buried him the little port Had seldom seen a costlier funeral.
Page 253 - I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this, Lord Ullin's daughter. " And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather.
Page 15 - Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow. Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
Page 184 - And blossom'd in the zenith, or the sweep Of some precipitous rivulet to the wave, As down the shore he ranged, or all day long Sat often in the seaward-gazing gorge, A shipwreck'd sailor, waiting for a sail: No sail from day to day, but every day The sunrise broken into scarlet shafts Among the palms and ferns and precipices; The blaze upon the waters to the east; The blaze upon his island overhead; The blaze upon the water to the west; Then the great stars that globed themselves in Heaven The hollower-bellowin...
Page 252 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Page 180 - Ten sweet summers, made my bosom thrill ! Will a swallow — or a swift, or some bird — Fly to her and say, I love her still ? Say my life's a desert drear and arid, To its one green spot I aye recur : Never, never, although three times married — Have I cared a jot for aught but her. No, mine own ! though early forced to leave you, Still my heart was there where first we met ; In those " Lodgings with an ample sea-view,'' Which were, forty years ago,
Page 261 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Page 262 - TERRIER in my Granny's hall, I whistle you out of my Granny's ; Hold you here, tail and all, in my hand, Little terrier: but if I could understand What you are, tail and all, and all in all, I should know what " black and tan " is. Kottabos, Dublin, 1870. There have been numerous imitations of In Memoriam, and Mr. William Dobson, in his "Poetical Ingenuities...
Page 209 - It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul. Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars! It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood, Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow And smooth as monumental alabaster.