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Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever;
Do noble things, not dream them all day long: And so make life, death, and that vast for ever One grand, sweet song.
Ever your friend
Till time shall end:-
Throughout this world of joy and sorrow,
Your smile may make,
For your dear sake,
More bliss than living else could borrow.
Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee,
The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long, When proudly, my own Island Harp, I unbound thee,
And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song! The warm lay of love,and the light note of gladness,
Have waken'd thy fondest, thy liveliest thrill; But so oft hast thou echod the deep sigh of sadness,
That e’en in thy mirth it will steal from thee still.
Dear Harp of my Country! farewell to thy numbers,
This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine, Go, sleep with the sunshine of fame on thy slumbers,
Till touched by some hand less unworthy than mine. If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover,
Have throbb’d at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone, I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over,
And all the wild sweetness I wak’d was thy own!
A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun.
A drop of spray cast from the Infinite..
A little word in kindness spoken....
A nightingale made a mistake.
A night without of wind and rain....
A short June night, now brightening fast to dawn..
A smile of hope from those we love.....
A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers.--..
A solemn murmur in the soul...
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever.
A wet sheet and a flowing sea..
A youth wept forth to serenade....
Above a checkered table they bent.----
Afar in the gleaming Orient, the amber gates swing wide
Ah! swan of slenderness, dove of tenderness.
“Alas! my noble boy! that thou should'st die!”.
All aspiration is a toil..
All day in the deepening sunlight
And is the swallow gone?....
And thou art dead, as young and fair....
An old farm-house, with meadows wide---
Are ye for ever to your skies departed
As fits the holy Christmas birth..
As o'er the cold sepulchral stone.-
Away, away, through the sightless air....
Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight..
Beautiful faces are those that wear.....
Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever.
Better trust all and be deceived..
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Beware the bowl! though rich and bright...
Bird of the wilderness....
Blest pair of syrens, pledges of heaveu's joy
Blow, blow, thou winter wind.....
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead.
But the star that shines in Bethlehem..
By Nebo's lonely mountain....
By the flow of the inland river.
Calm on the listening ear of night...
Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee...
Did you hear that sound of woe..
Drifting along the river, all gleaming.
Ever your friend-----
Farewell! since never more for thee..
Father, whate'er of earthly bliss....
Folks were happy as days were long-
For March the violets come
Gay, guiltless pair----
God hath His solitudes, uppeopled yet---
God of the earth’s extended plains....
God speaks to hearts of men in many ways.
God willed: I was. What he had planned I wrought-
Go, lovely rose!
Green be the turf above thee..
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings..
Harness me down with your iron bands...
Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee.---
He kept his honesty and truth.---
He meets, by heavenly chance express -
He who hath bent him o'er the dead..
High walls and huge the body may confine..
His falchion flashed along the Nile.
How richly glows the water's breast.
How shall the Harp of poesy regain..
. How sleep the brave who sink to rest .
How sweet it were, if without feeble fright..
I am dying, Egypt, dying....
I cannot give what men call love
I come from haunts of coot and hern
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I could not love thee, dear, so much...
1 count myself in nothing else so happy--
I know not what awaits me..
I lay me down to sleep, with little thought of care
I love to look on a scene like this..
I saw thee weep--the big bright tear..
I see before me the Gladiator lie..
I sit to-night as audience to my thoughts.-
I stand by the river, so peacefully shining-
I stood on the bridge at midnight..
I walk down the Valley of Silence.
I was not, and I was conceived.
I'd mourn the hopes that leave me..
If aught of oaten stop or pastoral sovg.
If for the welfare of the tree...
If I had known in the morning-
If in one poor bleeding bosom...
If there should come a time as well there may.
If thou dost bid thy friend farewell..
In olden time there lived a king
In the dome of my sires as the clear moonbeam falls-...
In the still air the music lies unheard...
In the wood, love, when we parted.
It is much less what we do
It is the hour when from the boughs.
It was the calm and silent night ---
Lay my babe upon my bosom...
Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom
Life! I know not what thou art
Light after darkness.--
“Live while you live,” the epicure would say.
Loneiy and wild it rose.....
Look on his pretty face for just one minute..
Look out upon the stars, my love
Meek dwellers ’mid yon terror-stricken cliffs-
Mine be à cot beside the hill..
My fairest child, I have no song to give you...
My Father is rich in houses and lands.
Mysterious night! when our first parent knew.
My life is in the sere and yellow leaf
Never a word is said