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answered beat behold better bird break breast bright child clear clouds comes comfort cried DALZIEL dark dead dear deep door doth doubt dream dropped eyes face fair fall father fear feet give gold golden grass green grow hand happy hard hath head hear heard heart heaven hold J. W. North lads leave lift light lips live looked Lord lost meet mother never night nought once passed play Poet reach rest rise rock rose round sailed shine sigh sing sleep smile song soul speak stand stars stood sweet talk tell thee thing thou thought till took trees trouble truth turned voice wait wake walk wave wife wind wings young youth
Page 156 - Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!" calling, "For the dews will soone be falling; Leave your meadow grasses mellow, Mellow, mellow; Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow; Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot; Quit the stalks of parsley hollow, Hollow, hollow; Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow, From the clovers lift your head ; Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot, Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow, Jetty, to the milking shed.
Page 158 - Then some looked uppe into the sky, And all along where Lindis flows To where the goodly vessels lie, And where the lordly steeple shows. They sayde, " And why should this thing be, What danger lowers by land or sea ? They ring the tune of Enderby...
Page 153 - THE old mayor climbed the belfry tower, The ringers ran by two, by three ; ' Pull, if ye never pulled before ; Good ringers, pull your best,' quoth he. ' Play uppe, play uppe, O Boston bells ! Ply all your changes, all your swells, Play uppe
Page 178 - They are only one times one. 0 moon ! in the night I have seen you sailing And shining so round and low ; You were bright ! ah, bright ! but your light is failing, — You are nothing now but a bow. You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven That God has hidden your face? I hope if you have you will soon be forgiven, And shine again in your place.
Page 52 - O my lost love, and my own, own love, And my love that loved me so ! Is there never a chink in the world above Where they listen for words from below ? Nay, I spoke once, and I grieved thee sore, I remember all that I said, And now thou wilt hear me no more — no more Till the sea gives up her dead.
Page 192 - I pray you, what is the nest to me, My empty nest? And what is the shore where I stood to see My boat sail down to the west ? Can I call that home where I anchor yet, Though my good man has sailed ? Can I call that home where my nest was set, Now all its hope hath failed ? Nay, but the port where my sailor went, And the land where my nestlings be : There is the home where my thoughts are sent, The only home for me — Ah me ! A COTTAGE IN A CHINE.
Page 155 - I sat and spun within the doore, My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes; The level sun, like ruddy ore, Lay sinking in the barren skies; And dark against day's golden death She moved where Lindis wandereth, My sonne's faire wife, Elizabeth. 'Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!' calling, Ere the early dews were falling, Farre away I heard her song. 'Cusha! Cusha!
Page 160 - The olde sea wall" (he cried) "is downe, The rising tide comes on apace, And boats adrift in yonder towne Go sailing uppe the market-place.