Foliage, Or, Poems Original and Translated

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C. and J. Ollier, 1818 - English poetry - 150 pages
 

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Page cxxxii - That roamed through the young earth, the glory extreme Of high Sesostris, and that southern beam, The laughing queen that caught the world's great hands. Then comes a mightier silence, stern and strong, As of a world left empty of its throng, And the void weighs on us; and then we wake...
Page 39 - Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat — Come hither, come hither, come hither! Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i' the sun, Seeking the food he eats And pleased with what he gets — Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Page cxvii - GREEN little vaulter in the sunny grass, Catching your heart up at the feel of June; Sole voice that's heard amidst the lazy noon, When even the bees lag at the summoning brass; And you, warm little housekeeper, who class With those who think the candles come too soon, Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune Nick the glad silent moments as they pass...
Page cvii - I can't see the snow.covered streets Without thinking of you and your visiting feats, When you call to remembrance how you and one more, When I wanted it most, used to knock at my door ; For, when the sad winds told us rain would come down, Or snow upon snow fairly clogged up the town, And dun, yellow fogs brooded over its white, So that scarcely a being was seen towards night, Then — then said the lady yclept near and dear : " Now, mind what I tell you — the Lambs will be here.
Page cxvii - With those who think the candles come too soon, Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune Nick the glad silent moments as they pass; Oh sweet and tiny cousins, that belong, One to the fields, the other to the hearth, Both have your sunshine; both though small are strong At your clear hearts; and both were sent on earth To sing in thoughtful ears this natural song: In doors and out, summer and winter, Mirth.
Page cxxx - With their heaped locks, or his own Delphic wreath. There seems a love in hair, though it be dead. It is the gentlest, yet the strongest thread Of our frail plant, - a blossom from the tree Surviving the proud trunk; - as if it said, Patience and Gentleness is Power. In me Behold affectionate eternity.
Page cxxx - :— " It lies before me there, and my own breath Stirs its thin outer threads, as though beside The living head I stood in honoured pride, Talking of lovely things that conquer death. Perhaps he pressed it once, or underneath Ran his fine fingers, when he leant, blank-eyed, And saw in fancy Adam and his bride With their rich locks, or his own Delphic wreath.
Page lii - Or else you're off at play, John, Just as you'd be all day, John, With hat or not as happens; And there you dance, and clap hands, Or on the grass go rolling, Or plucking...
Page cxxiv - tis a poet's too. How pleasant the leaves feel ! and how they spread With their broad angles, like a nodding shed Over both eyes ! and how complete and new, As on my hand I lean, to feel them strew My sense with freshness, — Fancy's rustling bed ! Tress-tossing girls, with smell of flowers and grapes Come dancing by, and downward piping cheeks...
Page xlvii - Sorrows I've had, severe ones, I will not think of now; And calmly, midst my dear ones. Have wasted with dry brow; But when thy fingers press And pat my stooping head, I cannot bear the gentleness, The tears are in their bed. Ah, first-born of thy mother, When life and hope were new, Kind playmate of thy brother, Thy sister, father too; My light, where'er I go, My bird, when prison-bound. My hand in hand companion, - no, My prayers shall hold thee round. To say 'He has departed...

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