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answer arms beat beauty blood blow break breathe broken brother child close comes Cyril dark dead dear death doubt dream dying earth eyes face fair fall father fear feet fell fight fire Florian flying follow garden gates girl give grow half Hall hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven hold hour keep kind king knew Lady land light lips live look lord maiden maids Maud mind morning mother moved never night noble once passion past peace Prince Princess Psyche rest rose round seem'd shadow shame side smile song soul speak spoke star stood strange sweet tell thee things thou thought thro till touch true voice wild wind woman women wood wrong
Page 69 - She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed; My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead; Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red.
Page 21 - Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range, Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change. Thro...
Page 69 - Dear as remember'd kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others ; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
Page 18 - I, to herd with narrow foreheads, vacant of our glorious gains, Like a beast with lower pleasures, like a beast with lower pains! Mated with a squalid savage— what to me were sun or clime? I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time...
Page 13 - They to whom my foolish passion were a target for their scorn : Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a mouldered string ? I am shamed through all my nature to have loved so slight a thing.
Page 69 - And thinking of the days that are no more. " Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. " Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square ; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
Page 147 - Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang) In height and cold, the splendour of the hills ? But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease To glide a sunbeam by the blasted Pine, To sit a star upon the sparkling spire ; And come, for Love is of the valley, come, For Love is of the valley, come thou down And find him...
Page 78 - A shadow flits before me, Not thou, but like to thee: Ah Christ, that it were possible For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us, What and where they be.
Page 22 - Ancient founts of inspiration well thro' all my fancy yet. Howsoever these things be, a long farewell to Locksley Hall! Now for me the woods may wither, now for me the roof-tree fall. Comes a vapor from the margin, blackening over heath and holt, Cramming all the blast before it, in its breast a thunderbolt. Let it fall on Locksley Hall, with rain or hail, or fire or snow; For the mighty wind arises, roaring seaward, and I go.