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beauty bird blood bloom blue breath bright brow Charles Lamb cheeks cloud cold crooked dame dance dark dead deaf dear death doth dream earth elves Eugene Aram eyes face fair fairy fancy fear flowers gaze gentle gloom gold Gold Sticks Golden Leg green grief hand hath head heard heart heaven HERO AND LEANDER horrid human hung kiss Knaresborough light limbs lips living look Love's Lycus Meanwhile melancholy Miss Kilmansegg moon morn never night Number o'er once Otto of Roses pale perchance pity poor raining music rich ring rose Rotterdam round Sally Brown Saturn seemed shade shadows shine sighs sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit sweet tears tender thee There's thing Thomas Hood thou thought thrush tree trumpet turned vext voice walk wave weep Wherefore Whilst wild wind wings ye think young zounds
Страница 147 - ... Plying her needle and thread — Stitch — stitch — stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt, And still, with a voice of dolorous pitch, She sang the "Song of the Shirt!
Страница 178 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon. Nor brought too long a day ; But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away...
Страница 179 - Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing; My spirit flew in feathers then That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow. I remember, I remember The...
Страница xxvii - ... to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about, As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied — We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
Страница 144 - Oozing so clammily. Loop up her tresses, Escaped from the comb — Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home? Who was her father? Who was her mother? Had she a sister? Had she a brother? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet than all other?
Страница 361 - But could not though he tried : His head was turned, and so he chewed His pigtail till he died. His death, which happened in his berth, At forty-odd befell: They went and told the sexton, and The sexton toll'd the bell.
Страница 149 - WITH fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread, — • Stitch— stitch— stitch ! In poverty, hunger, and dirt; And still with a voice of dolorous pitch She sang the "Song of the Shirt!
Страница 164 - She went away with song, With music waiting on her steps, And shoutings of the throng; But some were sad, and felt no mirth, But only music's wrong, In sounds that sang Farewell, Farewell, To her you've loved so long.