Yet on the nimble air benign That waft the breath of grace divine To hearts in sloth and ease. So nigh is grandeur to our dust, When Duty whispers low, Thou must, G% GOOD-BYE, PROUD WORLD! OOD-BYE, proud world! I'm going home; Thou'rt not my friend, and I'm not thine. Long through thy weary crowds I roam, A river-ark on the ocean's brine; Long I've been tossed like the driven foam; Good-bye to Flattery's fawning face ; To those who go, and those who come; I am going to my own hearth-stone And vulgar feet have never trod A spot that is sacred to thought and God. Oh, when I'm safe in my sylvan home, I tread on the pride of Greece and Rome; I laugh at the lore and the pride of man, INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Ah, broken is the golden bowl, the spirit flown for ever 395 Are you ready for your steeple-chase, Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorree? Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? As ships, becalmed at eve, that lay 345 97 ... 341 A thousand fantasies бо ... At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still 182 Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints 62 A wet sheet and a flowing sea Beside the ungathered rice he lay Bonny Kilmeny gaed up the glen Brightest and best of the sons of the morning. ... 352 391 389 63 251 351 PAGE Busk ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride Calm on the bosom of thy God... 186 281 140 309 Can I forget the dismal night, that gave 175 285 Come back, come back, behold with straining mast Come Sleep! O Sleep, that certain knot of peace 338 340 ... 30 29 176 Damsels of Time, the hypocritic Days 401 Daughter of Jove, relentless power 131 Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee... Earth has not anything to show more fair Father, I know that all my life Fear no more the heat o' the sun Fix me on some bleak precipice Fly, envious Time, till thou run out thy race Give me a golden pen, and let me lean... |