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angel baby beautiful blessed blest bosom breast breath bright brow chair cheek cherished child childhood clasp cold dark darling dead dear mother death dream drew the little earth Eliza Cook eternal eyes face feel feet fingers flowers forget gather gentle Gilbert Haven glory golden gone grief hand happy hear heaven holy hope hour infant kiss knee laid land life's light lips lonely look Louise Chandler Moulton lullaby song memory mind morning mother's heart mother's love neath never night o'er Ohio penitentiary passed peace PHILIP PHILLIPS pray prayer precious remember rest Riley Smith shining silent silken hand sing sister sleep slumber smile soft softly song sorrow soul spirit stars sweet sweetest tears tender thee thine thou thought treasure Twas Twill voice wandered watched weary weep whispered words Yesterday Song young youth
Страница 246 - All this, and more endearing still than all, Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, Ne'er roughen'd by those cataracts and breaks, That humour interposed too often makes...
Страница 243 - Affectionate, a mother lost so long. 1 will obey, not willingly alone, But gladly, as the precept were her own : And, while that face renews my filial grief, Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief, Shall steep me in Elysian reverie, A momentary dream that thou art she.
Страница 243 - With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!
Страница 252 - Some feelings are to mortals given, With less of earth in them than heaven ; And if there be a human tear From passion's dross refined and clear, A tear so limpid and so meek, It would not stain an angel's cheek, 'Tis that which pious fathers shed Upon a duteous daughter's head...
Страница 225 - FRIEND after friend departs : Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts, That finds not here an end : Were this frail world our final rest, Living or dying, none were blest. Beyond the flight of time, Beyond this vale of death, There surely is some blessed clime, Where life is not a breath ; Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward and expire...
Страница 547 - ALL houses wherein men have lived and died Are haunted houses. Through the open doors The harmless phantoms on their errands glide, With feet that make no sound upon the floors. We meet them at the doorway, on the stair, Along the passages they come and go, Impalpable impressions on the air, A sense of something moving to and fro.
Страница 244 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was.
Страница 244 - Dupe of to-morrow even from a child. Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went, Till all my stock of infant sorrow spent, I learned at last submission to my lot, But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot.
Страница 547 - The stranger at my fireside cannot see The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear ; He but perceives what is ; while unto me All that has been is visible and clear. We have no title-deeds to house or lands ; Owners and occupants of earlier dates From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands, And hold in mortmain still their old estates.
Страница 248 - I've treasured it long as a sainted prize, I've bedewed it with tears, and embalmed it with sighi, 'Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart ; Not a tie will break, not a link will start. Would ye learn the spell : a mother sat there, And a sacred thing is that old arm-chair.