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ACROSTICS ages angel arms beautiful bird bless blood blue bright broad brow child comes dark daughter dead dear death deep divine doth dream earth face fair fall fate father fear fight fire flower gentle give gold golden Grace grave hand head heard heart Heaven hills hold holy isle King land leaves light lips live look Lord lost memory mind morning mother mountain never night noble o'er once pain pleasure poor Prince Queen rest rose round sacred says shore side sings sleep smile snow sorrow soul sound Stand stone stood stream sweet sword tears thee thing thou thought took tower turn Twas unto voice walk walls wave wild wind wonder wood young youth
Seite 149 - Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round, walks on, And turns no more his head ; Because he knows a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread.
Seite 128 - I am the daughter of earth and water, And the nursling of the sky ; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores ; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when, with never a stain, The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams, Build up the blue dome of air...
Seite 111 - A stranger animal," cries one, "Sure never lived beneath the sun: A lizard's body lean and long, A fish's head, a serpent's tongue, Its foot with triple claw disjoined; And what a length of tail behind! How slow its pace! And then its hue, — Who ever saw so fine a blue?
Seite 165 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Seite 121 - As with his wings aslant, Sails the fierce cormorant, Seeking some rocky haunt With his prey laden, So toward the open main, Beating to sea again, Through the wild hurricane, Bore I the maiden.
Seite 105 - Sirens' harmony, That sit upon the nine infolded spheres, And sing to those that hold the vital shears, And turn the adamantine spindle round, On which the fate of Gods and men is wound.
Seite 84 - He praised perhaps for ages yet to come, She never heard of half a mile from home ; He lost in errors his vain heart prefers, She safe in the simplicity of hers.
Seite 96 - It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder— everlastingly. Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here, If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, Thy nature is not therefore less divine...