English Poetesses: A Series of Critical Biographies

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Cassell, Limited, 1883 - 381 páginas
 

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Página 270 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints.
Página 307 - What would we give to our beloved ? The hero's heart, to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows ?He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Página 315 - O may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence : live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge men's search To vaster issues.
Página 378 - The Encyclopaedic Dictionary. A New and Original Work of Reference to all the Words in the English Language, with a Full Account of their Origin, Meaning, Pronunciation, and Use.
Página 195 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set, but all — Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death...
Página 198 - Thou call'st its children a happy band ; Mother! oh, where is that radiant shore? Shall we not seek it, and weep no more? Is it where the flower of the orange blows, And the fire-flies glance through the myrtle boughs?" — " Not there, not there, my child ! " " Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies?
Página 106 - ... so pale. Yet I was once a mother's pride And my brave father's hope and joy, But in the Nile's proud fight he died, And I am now an orphan boy. Poor foolish child ! how pleased was I, When news of Nelson's victory came, Along the crowded streets to fly And see the lighted windows flame ! To force me home my mother sought : She could not bear to see my joy, For with my father's life 'twas bought, And made me a poor orphan boy. The people's shouts were long and loud : My mother, shuddering, closed...
Página 313 - Cold in the earth— and the deep snow piled above thee, Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave! Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee, Severed at last by Time's all-severing wave? Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover Over the mountains, on that northern shore, Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover Thy noble heart for ever, ever more?
Página 265 - THERE is no God," the foolish saith, — But none, "There is no sorrow;" And nature oft, the cry of faith, In bitter need will borrow : Eyes, which the preacher could not school, By wayside graves are raised ; And lips say, " God be pitiful," Who ne'er said,
Página 334 - ... more day by day You tell me of our future that you planned: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.

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