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affection appeared asked association beauty become better called carried child close comes dark dear deep door entered eyes face father fear feel fire flowers girl give green hand happy head hear heard heart hope hour human kind labour lady land leave less light live look Lord means mind Miss morning mother nature never night once passed perhaps poor present replied respect rest rich round seemed seen side society soon soul speak spirit strong sure sweet tears tell things thou thought tion took town trees true truth turned voice walk whole wife wish young
Page 144 - Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Page 144 - Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite; Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring in the common love of good. Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be.
Page 152 - The time would e'er be o'er, And I on thee should look my last, And thou shouldst smile no more! And still upon that face I look, And think 'twill smile again; And still the thought I will not brook, That I must look in vain. But when I speak — thou dost not say What thou ne'er left'st unsaid; And now I feel, as well I may, Sweet Mary, thou art dead...
Page 355 - To-night I saw the sun set: he set and left behind The good old year, the dear old time, and all my peace of mind; And the New-year's coming up, mother, but I shall never see The blossom on the blackthorn, the leaf upon the tree.
Page 355 - There's not a flower on all the hills : the frost is on the pane : I only wish to live till the snowdrops come again : I wish the snow would melt and the sun come out on high : I long to see a flower so before the day I die.
Page 152 - If thou would'st stay, e'en as thou art, All cold, and all serene — I still might press thy silent heart, And where thy smiles have been ! While e'en thy chill bleak corse I have, Thou seemest still mine own ; But there — I lay thee in thy grave, And I am now alone...
Page 20 - Here I wrote and read in fine weather, sometimes under an awning. In autumn my trellises were hung with scarlet runners, which added to the flowery investment. I used to shut my eyes in my arm-chair, and affect to think myself hundreds of miles off.
Page 40 - I LOVE it, I love it ; and who shall dare To chide me for loving that old Arm-chair ? I've treasured it long as a sainted prize ; I've bedewed it with tears, and embalmed it with sighs. 'Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart ; Not a tie will break, not a link will start. Would ye learn the spell ? — a mother sat there ; And a sacred thing is that old Arm-chair.
Page 40 - twas there she died ; And Memory flows with lava tide. Say it is folly and deem me weak, While the scalding drops start down my cheek ; But I love it, I love it, and cannot tear My soul from a mother's old arm-chair.