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ACROSTICS ages bear beautiful beneath bore born bound brave breast bright celebrated charms child comes dark daughter dead death deep doth E'en earth eyes fair false fame fear field fire flower give glory grace hair hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven hero hill honour Italy king lady land leaves light live look Lord maid meet mighty mind mother mountain nature never night noble notes o'er once pain play poet poor praise Pray pride prince queen rise river rose seek seemed seen shore side smile soft song soul sound spring stand star stood stream strength sweet sword tears tell thee thou thro tongue town tree truth wandering wave whole wild winding young
Page 96 - Who gave you your invulnerable life, Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, Unceasing thunder and eternal foam? And who commanded (and the silence came), Here let the billows stiffen, and have rest?
Page 4 - Old Kaspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by: And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh "'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, "Who fell in the great victory.
Page 56 - I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD.' I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Page 5 - Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth, In thy heart the dew of youth, On thy lips the smile of truth. O, that dew, like balm, shall steal Into wounds, that cannot heal, Even as sleep our eyes doth seal ; And that smile, like sunshine, dart Into many a sunless heart, For a smile of God thou art.
Page 22 - Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis And ships by thousands lay below, And men in nations ; — all were his ! He counted them at break of day, And when the sun set where were they...
Page 67 - Here the self-torturing sophist, wild Rousseau, The apostle of affliction, he who threw Enchantment over passion, and from woe Wrung overwhelming eloquence, first drew The breath which made him wretched; yet he knew How to make madness beautiful, and cast O'er erring deeds and thoughts, a heavenly hue Of words like sunbeams, dazzling as they past The eyes, which o'er them shed tears feelingly and fast.
Page 23 - Then up I rose, And dragged to earth both branch and bough, with crash And merciless ravage ; and the shady nook Of hazels, and the green and mossy bower, Deformed and sullied, patiently gave up Their quiet being...
Page 67 - When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known!