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bear beauty bird bless blue breast breath bright brow child clear dark dead death deep depart dreams dwell earth face fair Father fear flow flowers gaze give glance gleam glorious glory glow gone grave green hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hills holy hope hour Italy land leaves light living lone look meet midst mighty mountain never night o'er O’er once pale pass past prayer proud pure rest rich rise rose round scene shade shadow shed shore shrine silent skies sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spring stars storm strain stream strong summer sweet swell tears tell thee thine things Thou art Thou hast thought tomb tone tree unto voice wake waves wild wind woods young
Página 124 - Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came; Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame. Not as the flying come, In silence and in fear: — They shook the depths of the desert gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer.
Página 348 - Far down, and shining through their stillness lies ! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal Argosies ! — Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main ; Earth claims not these again.
Página 217 - I sought — give answer, where are they ? If thou wouldst clear thy perjured soul, send life through this cold clay! " Into these glassy eyes put light — be still ! keep down thine ire, Bid these white lips a blessing speak — this earth is not my sire ! Give me back him for whom I strove, for whom my blood was shed,— Thou canst not ? — and a king ! — his dust be mountains on thy head...
Página 185 - O'er his low bed may weep. One sleeps where southern vines are drest, Above the noble slain ; He wrapt his colours round his breast On a blood-red field of Spain. And one — o'er her the myrtle showers Its leaves, by soft winds fann'd ; She faded 'midst Italian flowers — The last of that bright band.
Página 217 - Then, starting from the ground once more, he seized the monarch's rein, Amidst the pale and wildered looks of all the courtier train ; And, with a fierce, o'ermastering grasp, the rearing war-horse led, And sternly set them face to face, — the king before the dead...
Página 160 - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but he had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead.
Página 190 - Their course with mast and flag is done, There slumber England's dead. The warlike of the isles, The men of field and wave ! Are not the rocks their funeral piles, The seas and shores their grave ? Go, stranger ! track the deep, Free, free the white sail spread ! Wave may not foam, nor wild wind sweep, Where rest not England's dead.
Página 124 - There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth.
Página 390 - With whose thick orchard blooms the soft winds play, Send out their inmates in a happy flow, Like a freed vernal stream. I may not tread With them those pathways — to the feverish bed Of sickness bound ; yet, O my God ! I bless Thy mercy, that with Sabbath peace hath filled My chastened heart, and all its throbbings stilled To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness.