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abide bear blessings breast breath bright calm child close cloud cold comfort dark dead dear death deep died doth dream earth eternal eyes face fair fall fear feel fields flowers give gone grace grave grief grow hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven hope hour John keep laid land leaves lies light live look Lord Mary mind morn mortal Mourn Nature never night o'er once pain pass peace poor praise pure rest rose round side sight silent sing sleep smile soul sound Spirit spring stand stars strong sweet Sweet Spirit tears thee thine Thou thou art thought tree turn unto voice weary weep winds wood wrong youth
Page 106 - For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths— for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead.
Page 18 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Page 20 - The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Page 12 - Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Page 117 - THREE years she grew in sun and shower; Then Nature said, " A lovelier flower On earth was never sown; This Child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make A Lady of my own. " Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me The Girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain.
Page 56 - That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! What recks it them ? What need they ? They are sped ; And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw ; The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said : But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
Page 104 - Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise.
Page 142 - REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be ; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.