Autres éditions - Tout afficher
babble bailiff beat beauty bell be toll'd blood Blush bow'd breath Breton brimming river brook brother bury Cannon cheat cold crush'd dance dark dead dear delight dream DUKE OF WELLINGTON dust echo evermore eyes F. D. MAURICE fair father feet flash'd flow To join garden glimmer gloom glory golden gone grave half Hall hand happy happy day head hear heart heart of stone Heaven high Hall-garden honour join the brimming Katie land lichen Light Brigade lilies Lombard look'd lord love go madness marriage Maud meadow moor Mourn never night o'er passionate peace people's voice Philip poison'd poor pride rings rivulet Rode the six rose Rosy rough but kind round seem'd shadow shining sick sighs silent six hundred smile sorrow spleen stood sweet talk thee thing thou thought thro turn'd UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN vext walks weep wood
Page 116 - I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges.
Page 140 - ... great by land as thou by sea. Thine island loves thee well, thou famous man, The greatest sailor since our world began. Now, to the roll of muffled drums, To thee the greatest soldier comes ; For this is he Was great by land as thou by sea...
Page 125 - ... I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows ; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses; I linger by my shingly bars ; I loiter round my cresses; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Page 80 - There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate. The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;" And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;" And the lily whispers, "I wait.
Page 166 - Stormed at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of death, Into the mouth of hell Rode the six hundred.
Page 76 - For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky, To faint in the light of the sun she loves, To faint in his light, and to die.
Page 81 - She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed; My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead; Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red.
Page 23 - A VOICE by the cedar tree, In the meadow under the Hall ! She is singing an air that is known to me, A passionate ballad gallant and gay, A martial song like a trumpet's call ! Singing alone in the morning of life, In the happy morning of life and of May, Singing of men that in battle array, Ready in heart and ready in hand, March with banner and bugle and fife To the death, for their native land.