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angels bear beauty birds Bishop blessed blood child clear comes Conrad Count dare dark daughter dead deep dream earth Eliz ELIZABETH enters EVERSLEY eyes face fair faith fall father fear feet flesh follow Fool give God's gold grace Guta hand head hear heard heart heaven holy Isen keep King Lady land leave Lewis light live look Lord maid master mind Monk mother never night noble o'er once pass Peas poor pray rest rich round saint SCENE shame sing sleep smile song soul speak spirit strange sure sweet tell thee thine things thou thought till true turn voice walls watch weep wife wind Woman young
Seite 258 - THE world goes up and the world goes down, And the sunshine follows the rain ; And yesterday's sneer and yesterday's frown Can never come over again, Sweet wife ; No, never come over again. For woman is warm though man be cold, And the night will hallow the day ; Till the heart which at even was weary and old Can rise in the morning gay, Sweet wife ; To its work in the morning gay.
Seite 246 - The creeping tide came up along the sand, And o'er and o'er the sand, And round and round the sand, As far as eye could see ; The blinding mist came down and hid the land ; And never home came she.
Seite 304 - I played in the heath one day ; And I cried for her more than a week, dears ; But I never could find where she lay. I found my poor little doll, dears. As I played...
Seite 177 - Dwells in the well-tilled lowland a dark-haired ./Ethiop people, Skilful with needle and loom, and the arts of the dyer and carver, Skilful, but feeble of heart; for they know not the lords of Olympus, Lovers of men; neither broad-browed Zeus, nor Pallas Athene", Teacher of wisdom to heroes, bestower of might in the battle; Share not the cunning of Hermes, nor list to the songs of Apollo. Fearing the stars of the sky, and the roll of the blue salt water...
Seite 282 - ODE TO THE NORTH-EAST WIND WELCOME, wild North-easter ! Shame it is to see Odes to every zephyr ; Ne'er a verse to thee. Welcome, black North-easter ! O'er the German foam ; O'er the Danish moorlands. From thy frozen home. Tired we are of summer, Tired of gaudy glare, Showers soft and steaming, Hot and breathless air. Tired of listless dreaming, Through the lazy day : Jovial wind of winter Turn us out to play ! Sweep the golden reed-beds ; Crisp the lazy dyke ; Hunger into madness Every plunging...
Seite 255 - THREE fishers went sailing away to the West, Away to the West as the sun went down; Each thought on the woman who loved him the best, And the children stood watching them out of the town; For men must work, and women must weep, And there's, little to earn, and many to keep, Though the harbor bar be moaning.
Seite 223 - She looked at the tuft of clover, And wept till her heart grew light ; And at last, when her passion was over, Went wandering into the night. But the merry brown hares came leaping Over the uplands still, Where the clover and corn lay sleeping On the side of the white chalk hill.
Seite 115 - And the daughter, of Tyre shall be there with a gift; like as the rich also among the people shall make their supplication before thee.