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afterwards appeared asked beautiful became become began believed born brother Browning Byron called Carlyle Charles child close coming dark daughter dead dear death Dickens died earth England English eyes face father feel five four gave give half hand happy heart hope hour human hundred interest Italy John kind Lady later leave letter light lines lived London look Lord married Mary mind months morning mother nature never night once passed persons poem poet poetry poor pounds published received rest says Scott seemed sent Shelley side sister soon soul spirit story sweet tell Tennyson thee things thou thought thousand verses volumes walk whole wife woman write written wrote young youth
Page 411 - And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows? Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge- — That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture!
Page 280 - A hand that can be clasp'd no more — Behold me, for I cannot sleep, And like a guilty thing I creep At earliest morning to the door. He is not here; but far away The noise of life begins again, And ghastly through the drizzling rain On the bald street breaks the blank day.
Page 287 - For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky, To faint in the light of the sun she loves, To faint in his light, and to die.
Page 388 - One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake.
Page 99 - Then gently scan your brother man, Still gentler sister woman ; Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human : One point must still be greatly dark, The moving why they do it : And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it.
Page 125 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
Page 184 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Page 428 - FEAR death? — to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, The post of the foe; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, Yet the strong man must go...