The casquet of literature, a selection in poetry and prose, ed. with notes by C. Gibbon

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Seite 353 - THREE years she grew in sun and shower; Then Nature said, "A lovelier flower On earth was never sown ; This Child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make A Lady of my own. "Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse : and with me The Girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain.
Seite 353 - Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me The girl, in rock and plain In earth and heaven, in glade and bower Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain. 'She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs; And hers shall be the breathing balm, And hers the silence and the calm* Of mute insensate things.
Seite 20 - Winter yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes : So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, Thy gentlest influence own, And love thy favourite name ! ODE TO PEACE.
Seite 13 - Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there...
Seite 149 - See him in the dish, his second cradle, how meek he lieth! wouldst thou have had this innocent grow up to the grossness and indocility which too often accompany maturer swinehood? Ten to one he would have proved a glutton, a sloven, an obstinate, disagreeable animal - wallowing in all manner of filthy conversation - from these sins he is happily snatched away Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade. Death came with timely care...
Seite 18 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are : I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear, Till death, like sleep, might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.
Seite 103 - Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh '"Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, "Who fell in the great victory.
Seite 148 - Together with the cottage (a sorry antediluvian makeshift of a building, you may think it), what was of much more importance, a fine litter of new-farrowed pigs, no less than nine in number, perished.
Seite 150 - He is all neighbours' fare. I am one of those who freely and ungrudgingly impart a share of the good things of this life which fall to their lot (few as mine are in this kind) to a friend. I protest I take as great an interest in my friend's pleasures, his relishes, and proper satisfactions, as in mine own. " Presents," I often say,
Seite 67 - Goody, good-woman, gossip, n'aunt, forsooth, Or dame, the sole additions she did hear; Yet these she challenged, these she held right dear ; Ne would esteem him act as mought behove Who should not honour'd eld with these revere ; For never title yet so mean could prove, But there was eke a mind which did that title love.

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