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Acrostics admirable answered appeared asked beautiful become beginning believe better Blessed called Catholic child Church comes course dark dear death Dublin earth edition Ethna eyes face faith Father feel flowers girl give given hand happy head heart heaven holy honour hope human interesting Ireland Irish kind Lady land leave light live London look Lord Madam Mary means mind Miss Moore mother nature never night once passed perhaps person Philip poor prayer present published race readers rest Saint seems sister soul spirit story suppose sure sweet tell thee things thou thought true turn Vincent voice volume woman women writer young
Page 305 - ... in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain even of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring.
Page 43 - Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night.
Page 241 - Whither shall I go then from thy Spirit? Or whither shall I go then from thy presence? If I climb up into heaven, thou art there: If I go down to hell, thou art there also. If I take the wings of the morning, and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there also shall thy hand lead me, And thy right hand shall hold me.
Page 42 - But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world.
Page 42 - Let it flame or fade, and the war roll down like a wind, We have proved we have hearts in a cause, we are noble still, And myself have awaked, as it seems, to the better mind ; It is better to fight for the good, than to rail at the ill ; I have felt with my native land, I am one with my kind, I embrace the purpose of God, and the doom assign'd.
Page 42 - There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds.
Page 648 - In a higher world it is otherwise, but here below to live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often.
Page 371 - Like a poet hidden in the light of thought, singing hymns unbidden till the world is wrought to sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not. Like a highborn maiden in a palace tower, soothing her love-laden soul in secret hour with music sweet as love, which overflows her bower.
Page 42 - Sooner or later I too may passively take the print Of the golden age - why not? I have neither hope nor trust; May make my heart as a millstone, set my face as a flint, Cheat and be cheated, and die: who knows? we are ashes and dust.