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angel Antonio arms bear beauty bless born breath bring Captain close comes cried dear death delight door earth eyes face fair fear feel flowers gentle give goes grace green half hall hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hold hope keep kind King kiss lady leave letter light living look look'd lord morn mother nature never night o'er once palfrey pity play poet poor Prince rest rich Riva rose round seem'd seems seen shape side sight smile soul sound speak sweet Sword talk tears tell thee things thou thought took trees true truth turn twas voice wine wise young
Seite 70 - ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold: Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord.
Seite 170 - Green little vaulter in the sunny grass Catching your heart up at the feel of June, Sole voice that's heard amidst the lazy noon, When ev'n the bees lag at the summoning brass; And you, warm little housekeeper, who class With those who think the candles come too soon, Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune Nick the glad silent moments as they pass...
Seite 129 - Sleep breathes at last from out thee, My little patient boy; And balmy rest about thee— Smooths off the day's annoy. I sit me down and think Of all thy winning ways; Yet almost wish with sudden shrink That I had less to praise. Thy sidelong pillowed meekness, Thy thanks to all that aid, Thy heart in pain and weakness Of fancied faults afraid ; The little trembling hand That wipes thy quiet tears, These, these are things that may demand Dread memories for years. Sorrows I've had, severe ones.
Seite 70 - Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold; Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,
Seite 151 - JENNY kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in! Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I'm growing old, but add, Jenny kissed me.
Seite 174 - The Fish, the Man, and the Spirit TO A FISH You strange, astonished-looking, angle-faced, Dreary-mouthed, gaping wretches of the sea, Gulping salt water everlastingly, Cold-blooded, though with red your blood be graced, And mute, though dwellers in the roaring waste; And you, all shapes beside, that fishy be, — Some round, some flat, some long, all devilry, Legless, unloving, infamously chaste: — O scaly, slippery, wet, swift, staring wights, What is't ye do? What life lead? eh, dull goggles?
Seite 162 - Alas ! we think not what we daily see About our hearths — angels, that are to be Or may be if they will, and we prepare Their souls and ours to meet in happy air; A child, a friend, a wife whose soft heart sings In unison with ours, breeding its future wings.
Seite 136 - Memnon, that long sitting by In seeming idleness, with stony eye, Sang at the morning's touch, like poetry ; And then of all the fierce and bitter fruit Of the proud planting of a tyrannous foot, — Of bruised rights, and flourishing bad men, And virtue wasting heavenwards from a den ; Brute force, and fury ; and the devilish drouth Of the fool...
Seite 194 - I'm growing old, but add, Jenny kissed me. '.II a Leigh SONG OF FAIRIES ROBBING AN Hunt ORCHARD We are the Fairies, blithe and antic, Of dimensions not gigantic, Though the moonshine mostly keep us, Oft in orchards frisk and peep us. Stolen sweets are always sweeter, Stolen kisses much completer, Stolen looks are nice in chapels, Stolen, stolen be your apples...
Seite 164 - We are violets blue, For our sweetness found Careless in the mossy shades, Looking on the ground. Love's dropp'd eyelids and a kiss,— Such our breath and blueness is. lo, the mild shape Hidden by Jove's fears, Found us first i' the sward, when she For hunger stoop'd in tears.