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arms beautiful bells beneath bishop of Beauvais bless blue sun breath bright brow called Charles VII charm cheek cold cried dark dear death decemvirs deep Don Quixote door dream duke duke of Burgundy Dunois earth English eyes face fair father fear feel fell flowers friends grace hand happy hath head heard heart heaven hope horse hour Joan Joan of Arc John of Luxembourg king lady Lalla Rookh land Lars Porsena light lips live look Lord maid mind moon morning mother never night o'er orange orange day passed pity poet Richard Harris Barham rose round side sigh sleep smile song soon soul spirit star stood sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought tion trees turned twas voice waves wild wind words young youth
Page 478 - New mercies each returning day Hover around us while we pray ; New perils past, new sins forgiven, New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven. If on our daily course our mind Be set to hallow all we find, New treasures still of countless price God will provide for sacrifice.
Page 79 - Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie ! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry ; For there I took the last fareweel O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life Was my...
Page 162 - Love's Philosophy The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle.
Page 224 - THE BELLS. HEAR the sledges with the bells — Silver bells ! What a world of merriment their melody foretells ! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night ! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Page 69 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill : But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath When they, pale captives,...
Page 237 - If all the world and love were young And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love.
Page 380 - The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose; The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Page 269 - He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender, kind, And grieved for those he left behind; With all the while a cheek whose bloom Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray...
Page 267 - Twas still some solace, in the dearth Of the pure elements of earth, To hearken to each other's speech, And each turn comforter to each With some new hope or legend old, Or song heroically bold; But even these at length grew cold.