Ballads and Other Poems ...

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Wiley & Putnam, 1847 - 270 pages
 

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Page 275 - Come up! come up! for the world is fair Where the merry leaves dance in the summer air." And the birds below give back the cry, "We come, we come to the branches high.
Page 277 - mong the flowering trees ; Lightly to soar, and to see beneath The wastes of the blossoming purple heath,. And the yellow furze, like fields of gold, That gladden some fairy region old. On mountain tops, on the billowy sea, On the leafy stems of the forest tree, How pleasant the life of a bird must be.
Page 64 - Then take me on your knee, mother, And listen, mother of mine : A hundred fairies danced last night, And the harpers they were nine. " And merry was the glee of the harp-strings And their dancing feet so small ; But, oh, the sound of their talking Was merrier far than all...
Page 278 - Tis dreary crossing o'er the wold. He's crossing o'er the wold apace, He's stronger than the storm ; He does not feel the cold — not he, His heart it is so warm. For father's heart is stout and true, As ever human bosom knew.
Page 274 - How pleasant the life of a bird must be, Flitting about in each leafy tree ; In the leafy trees so broad and tall, Like a green and beautiful palace hall, With its airy chambers, light and boon...
Page 41 - Let's take him to the broad green hill ! " in his impotent despair, Said one strong boy: "let's take him off, the hills are wide and fair : I know a little hiding-place, and we will keep him there." Oh vain ! They took the little lamb, and straightway tied him down, With a strong cord they tied him fast, and o'er the common brown, And o'er the hot and flinty roads, they took him to the town. The little children through that day, and throughout all the morrow, From...
Page 67 - I've spun a piece of hempen cloth And I want to spin another — A little sheet for Mary's bed, And an apron for her mother!
Page 299 - The gray and ancient peaks, Round which the silent clouds hang day and night ; And the low voice of water, as it makes, Like a glad creature, murmurings of delight ; These are your joys. Go forth, Give your hearts up unto their mighty power ; For in his spirit God has clothed the earth, And speaks in love from every tree and flower.
Page 276 - Cresting the billows like silvery foam, Then wheeling away to its cliff-built home ; What joy it must be to sail, upborne By a strong, free wing, through the rosy morn ; To meet the young sun face to face, And pierce like a shaft the boundless space ; T.
Page 65 - I'll tell you all, my mother — But let me have my way ! And some they played with the water, And rolled it down the hill ; ' And this,' they said, ' shall speedily turn The poor old miller's mill ; For there has been no water Ever since the first of May ; And a busy man...

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