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Сторінка 319 - What would we give to our beloved ? The hero's heart, to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows ?He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Сторінка 328 - O MAY I JOIN THE CHOIR INVISIBLE" Longum illud tempus, quum non era, magis me movet, quam hoc exiguum. — Cicero, Ad Att., xii: 18. O may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence: live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge man's search To vaster issues.
Сторінка 282 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right ; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose...
Сторінка 207 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set, but all — Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death...
Сторінка 210 - Not there; not there, my child.' Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies? Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas. Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds on their starry wings Bear the rich hues of all glorious things? Not there; not there, my child.
Сторінка 327 - No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere: I see Heaven's glories shine, And faith shines equal, arming me from fear. O God within my breast, . Almighty, ever-present Deity! Life — that in me has rest, As I — undying Life — have power in Thee!
Сторінка 325 - Cold in the earth— and the deep snow piled above thee, Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave! Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee, Severed at last by Time's all-severing wave? Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover Over the mountains, on that northern shore, Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover Thy noble heart for ever, ever more?
Сторінка 317 - And now, what time ye all may read through dimming tears his story, How discord on the music fell and darkness on the glory, And how when, one by one, sweet sounds and wandering lights departed, He wore no less a loving face because so brokenhearted, He shall be strong to sanctify the poet's high vocation.
Сторінка 63 - And no great wonder," Death replies ; " However, you still keep your eyes ; And sure to see one's loves and friends For legs and arms would make amends.