Young Englishwoman: A Volume of Pure Literature, New Fashions, and Pretty Needlework Designs, Volume 1

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Ward, Lock and Tyler, 1867
 

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Página 450 - Grows green and broad, and takes no care, Sun-steep'd at noon, and in the moon Nightly dew-fed ; and turning yellow Falls, and floats adown the air. Lo ! sweeten'd with the summer light, The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow, Drops in a silent autumn night. All its allotted length of days, The flower ripens in its place, Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil, Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil.
Página 465 - The thing we long for, that we are For one transcendent moment, Before the Present poor and bare Can make its sneering comment. Still, through our paltry stir and strife, Glows down the wished Ideal, And Longing moulds in clay what Life Carves in the marble Real...
Página 150 - Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold, Fall on your shoulders again as of old; Let it drop over my forehead to-night, Shading my faint eyes away from the light; For with its sunny-edged shadows once more Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore; Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep; — Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!
Página 150 - Time, in your flight, Make me a child again, just for to-night! Mother, come back from the echoless shore, Take me again to your heart, as of yore; Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair; Over my slumbers your loving watch keep; — Rock me to sleep, mother, —rock me to sleep ! Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
Página 465 - OF all the myriad moods of mind That through the soul come thronging, Which one was e'er so dear, so kind, So beautiful as Longing ? The thing we long for, that we are For one transcendent moment, Before the Present poor and bare Can make its sneering comment.
Página 280 - I NEED not praise the sweetness of his song, Where limpid verse to limpid verse succeeds Smooth as our Charles, when, fearing lest he wrong The new moon's mirrored skiff, he slides along, Full without noise, and whispers in his reeds. With loving breath of all the winds his name Is blown about the world, but to his friends A sweeter secret hides behind his fame, And Love steals shyly through the loud acclaim To murmur a God bless you ! and there ends.
Página 616 - Over the heads of the rebel host. Ever its torn folds rose and fell On the loyal winds that loved it well; And through the hill-gaps sunset light Shone over it with a warm good-night. Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er, And the rebel rides on his raids no more. Honor to her ! and let a tear Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier.
Página 191 - Rucar*), now in my. custody and most valuable. My aunt played and sung well, and had a great deal of life and humour, but no turn to business ; though my mother had the same qualifications, and liked it as well as she did, she was forced to drudge ; and many jokes used to pass betwixt the sisters about their different occupations...
Página 616 - Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er, And the Rebel rides on his raids no more. Honor to her! and let a tear Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier. Over Barbara Frietchie's grave, Flag of Freedom and Union, wave ! Peace and order and beauty draw Round thy symbol of light and law; And ever the stars above look down On thy stars below in Frederick town ! What the Birds Said The birds against the April wind Flew northward, singing as they flew; They sang, "The land we leave behind Has swords for corn-blades,...
Página 150 - Rock me to sleep, mother — rock me to sleep. Over my heart in the days that are flown No love like mother-love ever has shone; No other worship abides and endures—- Faithful, unselfish and patient like yours.

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