The Works of Charles Kingsley...: Yeast. Poems

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John D. Morris, 1899
 

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Seite 314 - He hath put down the mighty from their seat : and hath exalted the humble and meek. He hath filled the hungry with good things : and the rich he hath sent empty away.
Seite 315 - A FAREWELL. My fairest child, I have no song to give you ; No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray : Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you For every day. Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever ; Do noble things, not dream them, all day long : And so make life, death, and that vast for-ever One grand, sweet song.
Seite 214 - King for ever and ever, and the heathen are perished out of the land. 19 LORD, thou hast heard the desire of the poor ; thou preparest their heart, and thine ear hearkeneth thereto : 20 To help the fatherless and poor unto their right, that the man of the earth be no more exalted against them.
Seite 275 - The western wind was wild and dank with foam, And all alone went she. The western tide crept 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 rolling mist came down and hid the land : And never home came she. " Oh ! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair — A tress of golden hair, A drowned maiden's hair Above the nets at sea ? Was never salmon yet that shone so fair Among the stakes on Dee.
Seite 126 - Hearken, O daughter, and consider, and incline thine ear; forget also thine own people, and thy father's house ; so shall the King greatly desire thy beauty : for He is thy Lord ; and worship thou Him.
Seite 312 - 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.
Seite 92 - Held commune with him, as if he and it Were all that was, — only . . . when his regard Was raised by intense pensiveness, . . . two eyes, Two starry eyes, hung in the gloom of thought, And seemed with their serene and azure smiles To beckon him.
Seite 188 - 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 xxi - I was not seeing them daily around me, under some form or other, in just the very hearts for whom one would most wish the peace and strength of a fixed and healthy faith. To the young, this book can do no harm ; for it will put into their minds little but what is there already. To the elder, it may do good; for it may teach some of them, as I earnestly hope, something of the real, but too often utterly unsuspected, state of their own children's minds ; something of the reasons of that calamitous...
Seite 220 - Myriad fiery globes, swam panting and heaving ; and rainbows Crimson and azure and emerald, were broken in starshowers, lighting Far through the wine-dark depths of the crystal, the gardens of Nereus, Coral and sea-fan and tangle, the blooms and the palms of the ocean.

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