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age to age art thou beauty beneath bless bliss blue blue heaven breast BRITTANY calm Caucasus dark dead dear deep divine doom doth dread dream Dryad earth earthly eternal evermore face faith fear feel flowers freedom gentle glad gleams golden green grew hair hand happy hath hear heard heaven hold in fee holy hope hushed instinct JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL KING ADMETUS leap light lonely look love's lyre man's son inherit Margaret meek mighty mighty heart moon Mordred murmured nature neath never night o'er peace pine poet's poets poor Prometheus Rhcecus Rosaline scarce scorn seemed serene shadow shut silence sing smile song sorrow soul spirit starry stars sunshine sweet Thebes thee thine eyes things thou art thought thy heart toil trembled true truth tyrants unto voice wandered wave weary wigwam wind wings youth
98 ページ - THE FOUNTAIN INTO the sunshine, Full of the light, Leaping and flashing From morn till night; Into the moonlight, Whiter than snow, Waving so flower-like When the winds blow; Into the starlight Rushing in spray, Happy at midnight, Happy by day; Ever in motion, Blithesome and cheery, Still climbing heavenward, Never aweary; Glad of all weathers, Still seeming best, Upward or downward, Motion thy rest; Full of a nature Nothing can tame, Changed every moment, Ever the same; Ceaseless aspiring, Ceaseless...
117 ページ - GOD sends his teachers unto every age, To every clime, and every race of men, With revelations fitted to their growth And shape of mind, nor gives the realm of Truth Into the selfish rule of one sole race : Therefore each form of worship that hath swayed The life of man, and given it to grasp The master-key of knowledge, reverence, Infolds some germs of goodness and of right...
194 ページ - What doth the poor man's son inherit ? A patience learned of being poor. Courage, if sorrow come, to bear it, A fellow-feeling that is sure To make the outcast bless his door; A heritage, it seems to me, A king might wish to hold in fee.
220 ページ - BE NOBLE ! and the nobleness that lies In other men, sleeping, but never dead, Will rise in majesty to meet thine own; Then wilt thou see it gleam in many eyes, Then will pure light around thy path be shed, And thou wilt nevermore be sad and lone.
122 ページ - Chance gave of joy, was wholly bound in that, Like the contented peasant of a vale, Deemed it the world, and never looked beyond. So, haply meeting in the afternoon Some comrades who were playing at the dice, He joined them and forgot all else beside.
108 ページ - For idly, hour by hour, He sat and watched the dead leaves fall, Or mused upon a common flower. It seemed the loveliness of things Did teach him all their use, For, in mere weeds, and stones, and springs, He found a healing power profuse.
193 ページ - ... may burst his bubble shares, And soft, white hands could hardly earn A living that would serve his turn ; A heritage, it seems to me, One scarce would wish to hold in fee.
240 ページ - THEY pas^ me by like shadows, crowds on crowds, Dim ghosts of men, that hover to and fro, Hugging their bodies round them, like thin shrouds Wherein their souls were buried long ago : They trampled on their youth, and faith, and love, They cast their hope of human-kind away, With Heaven's clear messages they madly strove, And conquered, — and their spirits turned to clay: Lo ! how they wander round the world, their grave, Whose ever-gaping maw by such is fed, Gibbering at living men, and idly rave,...
112 ページ - ... Whose heart was made of manly, simple stuff, As homespun as their own. And, when he read, they forward leaned, Drinking, with thirsty hearts and ears, His brook-like songs whom glory never weaned From humble smiles and tears. Slowly there grew a tender awe, Sun-like, o'er faces brown and hard, m As if in him who read they felt and saw Some presence of the bard.
118 ページ - ... ignorance, Found in it even a moment's fitful rest. There is an instinct in the human heart Which makes that all the fables it hath coined, To justify the reign of its belief And strengthen it by beauty's right divine, Veil in their inner cells a mystic gift, Which, like the hazel twig, in faithful hands, Points surely to the hidden springs of truth.