Songs of the Heart: Poems on Various Subjects

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author, 1871 - 111 pages

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Page 84 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Page 3 - Read from some humbler poet. Whose songs gushed from his heart. As showers from the clouds of summer. Or tears from the eyelids start; Who, through long days of labor.
Page 24 - And he stayed yet other seven days; and again he sent forth the dove out of the ark; and the dove came in to him in the evening; and, lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf pluckt off: so Noah knew that the waters were abated from off the earth.
Page 47 - what music hast thou provided for thy saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on earth?" There appears to be a meaning in the sound beyond what reaches the ear ; it links itself with the aspects of nature, with the spirit of the hour, or blends with the sad reminiscence or the hopeful reverie, like its echo or response. There is, too, a metaphysical...
Page 108 - Published under the sanction of the National Society for Aid to the Sick and Wounded in War.
Page 57 - ... they pass Bear the scent of dew-besprinkled grass And the odor of flowers sweet. I have watched the shades of twilight glide Over the peaceful scene, Till the stars stole forth on the heavens wide, And the moonbeams fell on the tranquil tide In floods of silver sheen. O, there is no vale that ever I knew That has such charms for me, Where the earth assumes a brighter hue, And the sky seems tinged with a deeper blue, And the flowers more fair to see. And still contented shall be my lot, Whether...
Page 56 - THERE'S a quiet place where I often go When the sun is in the west, And the evening breezes, as they blow O'er the trees above and the lake below, Seem sighing themselves to rest ; Where under the bank beneath the feet There lies a hidden well; Where the hanging boughs the waters meet, And the moor-hen finds a safe retreat, And the white swan loves to dwell.
Page 57 - ... hill, And, the arching boughs of the trees between, The broad expanse of the meadows green Lie peacefully and still. I have seen the water smooth as glass, Or the ripples o'er it fleet, When the winds that move it as they pass Bear the scent of dew-besprinkled grass And the odour of flowers sweet. I have watched the shades of twilight glide Over the peaceful scene, Till the stars stole forth on the heavens wide, And the moonbeams fell on the tranquil tide In floods of silver sheen* Oh there is...
Page 68 - REST. REST for the labourer, rest ! When the daylight slowly dies, When the shadows creep, and welcome sleep Comes to the weary eyes.
Page 69 - When the struggle of life is o'er, When the race is run, and the crown is won, Rest ! and for evermore.

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