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amid beauty behold beneath blessed blest bliss breast breath bright calm cheer child close clouds comes dark dead death deep delight doth dreams earth eyes face fair fall fear feel feet flowers Frank gaze gentle glad gleam glide grave green grief hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills holy hope hour human hush hymn innocence lake leave lies light living lonely look morn mortal mother mountains mournful Nature never night o'er once pass peace prayer pure rest round sail seems seen side sight silent sing sitting sleep smile soft solitude song soon sorrow soul sound speak spirit spring stand stars sweet tears thee things thou thought touch unto voice walk waves weep wild wings
Page 407 - A CLOUD lay cradled near the setting sun ; A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow : Long had I watched the glory moving on, O'er the still radiance of the lake below ; Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow, E'en in its very motion there was rest ; While every breath of eve that chanced to blow, Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west.
Page 124 - This frame of dust, this feeble breath, The Plague may soon destroy ; We think on Thee, and feel in death A deep and awful joy. Dim is the light of vanished years In the glory yet to come ; O idle grief ! O foolish tears ! When Jesus calls us home. Like children for some bauble fair That weep themselves to rest ; We part with life — awake ! and there The jewel in our breast ! SCENE III.
Page 228 - Wafting up his own mountains that far-beaming head ; Or borne like a whirlwind down on the vale ? — Hail ! King of the wild and the beautiful ! — hail ! Hail ! Idol divine ! — whom Nature hath borne O'er a hundred hill-tops since the mists of the morn, Whom the pilgrim lone wandering on mountain and moor, As the vision glides by...
Page 226 - But when a stranger meets thy view, Glistens thine eye with wilder hue. A moment's thought who I may be, Blends with thy smiles of courtesy. Fair was that face as break of dawn, When o'er its beauty sleep was drawn Like a thin veil that half-concealed The light of soul, and half-revealed.
Page 228 - O'er the black silent forest piled lofty and lone — A throne which the eagle is glad to resign Unto footsteps so fleet and so fearless as thine. There the bright heather springs up in love of thy breast...
Page 401 - To whom belongs this valley fair, That sleeps beneath the filmy air, Even like a living thing ? Silent, — as infant at the breast, — Save a still sound that speaks of rest, That streamlet's murmuring ! The heavens appear to love this vale ; Here clouds with scarce-seen motion sail, Or 'mid the silence lie. By that blue arch, this beauteous earth Mid evening's hour of dewy mirth Seems bound unto the sky.