Favorite Poems

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George Routledge and Sons, 1878 - 96 pages
 

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Page 74 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.
Page 45 - Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May.
Page 84 - When the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight...
Page 48 - I SHOT an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, 1 knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong.
Page 40 - Wore the long Winter out ; Often our midnight shout Set the cocks crowing, As we the Berserk's tale Measured in cups of ale, Draining the oaken pail, Filled to o'erflowing. " Once as I told in glee Tales of the stormy sea, Soft eyes did gaze on me, Burning yet tender ; And as the white stars shine On the dark Norway pine, On that dark heart of mine Fell their soft splendor.
Page 13 - THERE is a reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that, grow between.
Page 39 - But when I older grew, Joining a corsair's crew, O'er the dark sea I flew With the marauders. Wild was the life we led; Many the souls that sped, Many the hearts that bled, By our stern orders.
Page 62 - Try not the pass," the old man said : " Dark lowers the tempest overhead ; The roaring torrent is deep and wide!" And loud that clarion voice replied, Excelsior! "Oh, stay," the maiden said, "and rest Thy weary head upon this breast ! " A tear stood in his bright blue eye, But still he answered with a sigh, Excelsior!
Page 56 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 61 - THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath, Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior!

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