Goblin Market: The Prince's Progress, and Other Poems

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Macmillan & Company, 1879 - 287 pages

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Page 146 - Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death : Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath : Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago.
Page 153 - the growing grass, *-' Underneath the living flowers, Deeper than the sound of showers : There we shall not count the hours By the shadows as they pass. Youth and health will be but vain, Beauty reckoned of no worth : There a very little girth Can hold round what once the earth Seemed too narrow to contain.
Page 132 - SONG. roses for the flush of youth, And laurel for the perfect prime; But pluck an ivy branch for me Grown old before my time. Oh violets for the grave of youth, And bay for those dead in their prime ; Give me the withered leaves I chose Before in the old time. THE HOUR AND THE GHOST.
Page 166 - I hang my harp upon a tree, A weeping willow in a lake; I hang my silenced harp there, wrung and snapt For a dream's sake. Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; My silent heart, lie still and break: Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed For a dream's sake.
Page 48 - Through sleep, as through a veil, She sees the sky look pale, And hears the nightingale That sadly sings. Rest, rest, a perfect rest Shed over brow and breast; Her face is toward the west The purple land. She cannot see the grain Ripening on hill and plain; She cannot feel the rain
Page 227 - My life is like a broken bowl, A broken bowl that cannot hold One drop of water for my soul Or cordial in the searching cold; Cast in the fire the perished thing; Melt and remould it, till it be A royal cup for Him, my King: O Jesus, drink of me.
Page 226 - with grief No everlasting hills I see; My life is in the falling leaf: O Jesus, quicken me. My life is like a faded leaf, My harvest dwindled to a husk: Truly my life is void and brief And tedious in the barren dusk; My life is like a frozen thing, No bud nor greenness can I see:
Page 40 - You should have wept her yesterday, Wasting upon her bed: But wherefore should you weep to-day That she is dead ? Lo, we who love weep not to-day, But crown her royal head. Let be these poppies that we strew, Your roses are too red : Let be these poppies, not for you Cut down and spread.
Page 135 - I forget on this side of the grave ? I promise nothing: you must wait and see Patient and brave. (O my soul, watch with him and he with me.) Shall I forget in peace of Paradise? I promise nothing: follow, friend, and see Faithful and wise. (O my soul, lead the way he walks with me.)
Page 234 - T WOULD have gone; God bade me stay: •*- I would have worked; God bade me rest. He broke my will from day to day, He read my yearnings unexpressed And said them nay. Now I would stay; God bids me go : Now I would rest; God bids me work.

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