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artist Baltimore Bayard Taylor beauty Beethoven blue breath bright burn calm CEDARCROFT CHARLOTTE CUSHMAN cloud cried dark dawn dead dear death doth dream e'er earth eyes fain Fair Lady faith flame flute fool gaze Georgia grace grass grave green Gris Grillon Hamish hand hast hath heart heartsease heaven heavenly height hell hills of Habersham hound JACQUERIE King King Arthur kiss land Lanier light lips look Lord Raoul love's lovers Macon marsh marshes of Glynn Master morn muscadine ne'er never night Nirvana o'er pain passion poem poet quoth Love rhyme rose round sail shame shine Sidney Lanier sigh sing smile song soul stars SUNRISE SONG sweet tears thee thine thou Time's tree twixt valleys of Hall villeins violet wave West wife wild WILLIAM HAYES WARD wind wing woods wrought
Page 24 - High o'er the hills of Habersham, Veiling the valleys of Hall, The hickory told me manifold Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall Wrought me her shadowy self to hold, The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine, Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign, Said, "Pass not, so cold, these manifold Deep shades of the hills of Habersham, These glades in the valleys of Hall.
Page 141 - INTO the woods my Master went, Clean forspent, forspent. Into the woods my Master came, Forspent with love and shame. But the olives they were not blind to Him, The little gray leaves were kind to Him: The thorn-tree had a mind to Him When into the woods He came. Out of the woods my Master went, And He was well content. Out of the woods my Master came, Content with death and shame. When Death and Shame would woo Him last, From under the trees they drew Him last : 'Twas on a tree they slew Him —...
Page 258 - Long as thine Art shall love true love, Long as thy Science truth shall know, Long as thine Eagle harms no Dove, Long as thy Law by law shall grow, Long as thy God is God above, Thy brother every man below, So long, dear Land of all my love, Thy name shall shine, thy fame shall glow!
Page 17 - In the freedom that fills all the space 'twixt the marsh and the skies: By so many roots as the marsh-grass sends in the sod I will heartily lay me a-hold on the greatness of God: Oh, like to the greatness of God is the greatness within The range of the marshes, the liberal marshes of Glynn.
Page 14 - Beautiful glooms, soft dusks in the noonday fire,— Wildwood privacies, closets of lone desire, Chamber from chamber parted with wavering arras of leaves,— Cells for the passionate pleasure of prayer to the soul that grieves...
Page 5 - Teach me the terms of silence, — preach me The passion of patience, — sift me, — impeach me, — And there, oh there As ye hang with your myriad palms upturned in the air, Pray me a myriad prayer.
Page 60 - O Trade! O Trade! would thou wert dead! The Time needs heart— 'tis tired of head: We're all for love," the violins said. "Of what avail the rigorous tale Of bill for coin and box for bale? Grant thee, O Trade! thine uttermost hope: Level red gold with blue sky-slope, And base it deep as devils grope: When all's done, what hast thou won Of the only sweet that's under the sun? Ay, canst thou buy a single sigh Of true love's least, least ecstasy?
Page 15 - Will work me no fear like the fear they have wrought me of yore When length was fatigue, and when breadth was but bitterness sore, And when terror and shrinking and dreary unnamable pain Drew over me out of the merciless miles of the plain, — Oh, now unafraid, I am fain to face The vast sweet visage of space.