The Excelsior poetry book for the young, selected and ed. by Vita |
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Page 9
... dead , Ah ! let us not complain . The Lord may give or take away , But nought our faith can move While we to heaven can look , and say , Our Father lives above . -W . L. Bowles . THE IRISH MAIDEN'S SONG . THOUGH lofty Scotia's mountains ,
... dead , Ah ! let us not complain . The Lord may give or take away , But nought our faith can move While we to heaven can look , and say , Our Father lives above . -W . L. Bowles . THE IRISH MAIDEN'S SONG . THOUGH lofty Scotia's mountains ,
Page 35
... faith or creed , Those precious words comprise it still ; We trace them on the bloomy mead , We hear them in the flowing rill . One chorus hails the Great Supreme , Each varied breathing tells the same ; The strains may differ , but the ...
... faith or creed , Those precious words comprise it still ; We trace them on the bloomy mead , We hear them in the flowing rill . One chorus hails the Great Supreme , Each varied breathing tells the same ; The strains may differ , but the ...
Page 42
... faith and pride , And yearns with the fondness of a dove To the light of its own fireside . ' Tis a rich rough gem , deny it who can ! And this is the heart of an Englishman . STANZAS TO THE YOUNG . The Briton may traverse the. 42 ...
... faith and pride , And yearns with the fondness of a dove To the light of its own fireside . ' Tis a rich rough gem , deny it who can ! And this is the heart of an Englishman . STANZAS TO THE YOUNG . The Briton may traverse the. 42 ...
Page 45
... trembling fern . Although no cloister chimes ring there , The heart is called to faith and prayer ; For all creation's voices tell The tidings of the Sabbath bell . 45 Go to the billows : let them pour In gentle. The Sabbath Bell.
... trembling fern . Although no cloister chimes ring there , The heart is called to faith and prayer ; For all creation's voices tell The tidings of the Sabbath bell . 45 Go to the billows : let them pour In gentle. The Sabbath Bell.
Page 114
... faith beholds the dying here Translated to that glorious sphere . Thus star by star declines , Till all are passed away , As morning high and higher shines Το pure and perfect day ; Nor sink those stars in empty night , But hide ...
... faith beholds the dying here Translated to that glorious sphere . Thus star by star declines , Till all are passed away , As morning high and higher shines Το pure and perfect day ; Nor sink those stars in empty night , But hide ...
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The Excelsior Poetry Book for the Young, Selected and Ed. by Vita Excelsior Poetry Book No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
angels bear beauty bell beneath bird bless blue brave breast breath bright Bring calm child clouds crown dark dead death deep dreams earth England fair fall Farewell father field flowers forest give glorious glory glow golden gone grace grave green hand happy hath head hear heart heaven hill hope hour king lady land leaves lies life's light live lonely look Lord morning mother mountain native never night o'er once passed peace poor pride remember rest rise rose round seemed shine sight silent sing sleep smiled soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought thousand tree voice wandering watch waters waves weep wide wild wind wing woods young youth
Popular passages
Page 115 - A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food ; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Page 122 - gainst his glory fight, And Time that gave doth now his gift confound. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth And delves the parallels in beauty's brow, Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow; And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Page 47 - With all her crew complete. Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.
Page 15 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day ; But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! T remember.
Page 208 - And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
Page 49 - THE SEA. The Sea ! the Sea ! the open Sea ! The blue, the fresh, the ever free ! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round ; It plays with the clouds ; it mocks the skies ; Or like a cradled creature lies.
Page 84 - O ! th' exceeding grace Of highest God that loves his creatures so, And all his works with mercy doth embrace, That blessed Angels He sends to and fro, To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe.
Page 185 - Far beyond the stars, Where stands a winged sentry All skilful in the wars; There above noise, and danger Sweet peace sits crowned with smiles, And one born in a manger Commands the beauteous files; He is thy gracious friend, And (O, my Soul, awake!) Did in pure love descend To die here for thy sake. If thou canst get but thither, There grows the flower of peace, The rose that cannot wither, Thy fortress, and thy ease; Leave then thy foolish ranges, For none can thee secure, But one, who never changes,...
Page 208 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
Page 16 - I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing ; My spirit flew in feathers then That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow. I remember, I remember The fir-trees dark and high ; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky : It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm farther off from Heaven Than when I was a boy.