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Ages angels arms bear beautiful bless breath child cold comes dark dead dear death deep door dream earth eyes face fair fall father fear feel feet flowers give glory gone grave grow hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven hold hope keep kind kiss knew land laugh leaves letter light lips live look Lord meet mind morning mother never night o'er once pain passed play poem poor pray prayer rest Rock rose round seemed side silent sing sleep smile song sorrow soul speak stand stars story sure sweet tears tell Thee things thou thought true turn voice wait weary wind young
Page 6 - Far-called our navies melt away On dune and headland sinks the fire Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget - lest we forget!
Page 71 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted ! Let us be patient!
Page 91 - The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world and she to her nest, — In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best...
Page 302 - thing of evil!— prophet still, if bird or devil! — Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted — On this Home by Horror haunted — tell me truly I implore — Is there — is there balm in Gilead? tell me — tell me, I implore!
Page 390 - Nor have we been wanting in attentions to our British Brethren We have warned them from Time to Time of attempts by their Legislature to extend an unwarrantable Jurisdiction over us...
Page 273 - Two of us in the churchyard lie, my sister and my brother; and in the churchyard cottage, I dwell near them with my mother.
Page 62 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, ' As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, 10 And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Page 388 - He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining, in the meantime, exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.
Page 30 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.