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Page 422 - O well for the sailor lad. That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O sea!
Page 422 - ALL along the valley, stream that flashest white, Deepening thy voice with the deepening of the night| All along the valley, where thy waters flow, I walk'd with one I loved two and thirty years ago. All along the valley, while I walk'd to-day, The two and thirty years were a mist that rolls away; For all along the valley, down thy rocky bed Thy living voice to me was as the voice of the dead, And all along the valley, by rock and cave and tree...
Page 423 - My mother had a maid call'd Barbara : She was in love, and he she loved proved mad And did forsake her : she had a song of ' willow ; ' An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune, And she died singing it...
Page 187 - The lady he loved died; and he, whom all the world loved, never sought to replace her. I can't say how much the thought of that fidelity has touched me. Does not the very cheerfulness of his after life add to the pathos of that untold story? To grieve always was not in his nature; or, when he had his sorrow, to bring all the world in to condole with him and bemoan it. Deep and quiet he lays the love of his heart, and buries it; and grass and flowers grow over the scarred ground in due time.
Page 334 - As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so shall the Son of Man be lifted up,
Page 48 - Of sounding an alarm, assaults these doors Till the street rings ; no stationary steeds Cough their own knell, while, heedless of the sound, The silent circle fan themselves, and quake : But here the needle plies its busy task, The pattern grows, the well-depicted...
Page 183 - And now, what time ye all may read through dimming tears his story, How discord on the music fell and darkness on the glory, And how when, one by one, sweet sounds and wandering lights departed, He wore no less a loving face, because so broken-hearted...
Page 421 - As I slept for a few minutes in my chair, to which I am more addicted than I could wish, I heard, as I thought, my poor wife call me by the familiar name of fondness which she gave me. My recollections on waking were melancholy enough. These be " The airy tongues that syllable men's names.
Page 182 - Do not pretend to deny it; manifestum habemus furem; make it an invariable and obligatory law to yourself never to mention your own mental diseases; if you are never to speak of them you will think on them but little, and if you think little of them they will molest you rarely.
Page 188 - ... to endure without a sob. For the whole remnant of your life, if you survive the test some, it is said, die under it -you will be stronger, wiser, less sensitive. This you are not aware of, perhaps, at the time, and so cannot borrow courage of that hope. Nature, however, as has been intimated, is an excellent friend in such cases, sealing the lips, interdicting utterance, commanding a placid dissimulation...