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Oh, blame not the bard, if he fly to the bowers
Oh that those lips had language! Life has passed..
Oh! weep for Moncontour! Oh! weep for the hour
O Mary, go and call the cattle home.........
Once, upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
One sweetly solemn thought
O pale with want and still despair..
One time I was allowed to steer...
One year among the angels, beloved, thou hast been
On parent knees, a naked new-born child
On the door you will not enter.
O Saviour, whose mercy, severe in its kindness....
O thou eternal One! whose presence bright
Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lowered
O little feet! that such long years.
O where shall we follow thee, Saviour beloved.
Our Lord is risen from the dead
Palms of glory, raiment bright
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky
River, river! little river!
Room, gentle flowers! my child would pass to heaven..
Saviour, when in dust to Thee.
See, before us in our journey broods a mist upon the ground
See, where the crest of the long promontory
Shall I fear, O earth, thy bosom....
She walks in beauty like the night
Side by side we are still, though a shadow
Sing them upon the sunny hills
Sleep, love, sleep
Slowly ravel, threads of doom..
Still thirteen years! 'tis Autumn now
Strive yet do I not promise
Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright..
Tell me not in mournful numbers
The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold..
The banners of the world are each upon that wild blue wave,-.
The breaking waves dashed high.....
The bud is in the bough, and the leaf is in the bud
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day
The dawn went up the sky....
There is no flock, however well attended
There sat an old man on a rock....
The day is done, and the darkness..
The lady she sits at her window...
The little gate was reached at last.
The Lord is my shepherd, no want shall I know..
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year......
Though the mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small. 234
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream..
The sea sings the song of the ages
The shattered water plashes down the ledge.
The spacious firmament on high..
'The splendor falls on castle walls.
The time for toil has passed, and night has come
The toil is very long, and I am tired.
The winds that once the Argo bore.
They sat and combed their beautiful hair..
This isle and house are mine, and I have vowed..
This is the arsenal. From floor to ceiling..
This is the ship of pearl which poets feign.
This was the ruler of the land
Thou art gone to the grave-but we will not deplore thee.
Though the day of my destiny 's over...
To bear, to nurse, to rear
To claim the Arctic came the sun............
Two seas amid the night...
Two voices are there-one is of the sea.
Unhappy White! when life was in its spring..
Upon the white sea-sand...
We are growing old--how the thought will rise
We count the broken lyres that rest....
What is death? 't is to be free..
What might it be that glance could paint?..
When another life is added
When I consider how my life is spent....
When I was born
When marshaled on the nightly plain.
Why should we faint and fear to live alone
Wild sparkling rage inflamed the Father's eyes.
Within this awful volume lies.
Without haste! without rest!..
With what clear guile of gracious love enticed!
Ye banks and braes, and streams around
Ye mariners of England....
Ye nymphs of Solyma! begin the song.
Yes, faith is a goodly anchor....
Yes, sad one of Sion, if closely resembling..