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And then, dissolving, filters through itself, “'hene‘er the land, that loses shadow, breathes, Like as a taper melts before a fire,

Even such I was, without a sigh or tear,
Before the song of those who chime for ever
After the chiming of the eternal spheres;

But, when I heard in those sweet melodies Compassion for me , more than had they said , “ O wherefore , lady, dost thou thus consume him?

The ice , that was about my heart congealed,
To air and water changed, and, in my anguish,
Through lips and eyes came gushing from my breast.

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Confusion and dismay, together mingled,
Forced such a feeble “Yes!” out of my mouth,
To understand it one had need of sight.

Even as a cross-bow breaks, when ’t is discharged, Too tensely drawn the bow-string and the bow, And with less force the arrow hits the mark;

So I gave way under this heavy burden,
Gushing forth into bitter tears and sighs,
And the voice, fainting, flagged upon its passage.

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GENTLE Spring! -- in sunshine clad,
\Vell dost thou thy power display!
For Winter maketh the light heart sad ,
And thou, — thou makest the sad heart gay.
Longfellow. I. 4 I

He sees thee, and calls to his gloomy train,
The sleet, and the snow, and the wind, and the rain;
And they shrink away, and they flee in fear,

When thy merry step draws near.

Winter giveth the fields and the trees, so old,
Their beards of icicles and snow;

And the rain , it raineth so fast and cold,
We must cower over the embers low;

And, snugly housed from the wind and weather,

Mope like birds that are changing feather.

But the storm retires, and the sky grows clear,
When thy merry step draws near.

Winter maketh the sun in the gloomy sky
Wrap him round with a mantle of cloud;
But, Heaven be praised, thy step is nigh;
Thou tearest away the mournful shroud,
And the earth looks bright, and Winter surly,
Who has toiled for nought both late and early,
Is banished afar by the new-born year,
When thy merry step draws near.



SWEET babe! true portrait of thy father’s face,
Sleep on the bosom, that thy lips have pressed! '"
Sleep, little one; and closely, gently place
Thy drowsy eyelid on thy mother’s breast.

Upon that tender eye, my little friend,

Soft sleep shall come , that cometh not to me! I watch to see thee , nourish thee , defend; —

’T is sweet to watch for thee, — alone for thee!

His arms fall down; sleep sits upon his brow;

His eye is closed; he sleeps, nor dreams of harm. Wore not his cheek the apple’s ruddy glow,

Would you not say he slept on Death’s cold arm?

Awake , my boy! — I tremble with afi'right!

Awake , and chase this fatal thought! — Unclose Thine eye but for one moment on the light!

Even at the price of thine, give me repose!

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KING Carusrmn stood by the lofty mast
In mist and smoke; ‘1‘
His sword was hammering so fast;
Through Gothic helm and brain it passed;
Then sank each hostile hulk and mast,
In mist and smoke.
“Fly!” shouted they, “fly, he who can!
Who braves of Denmark’s Christian
The stroke?”

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North Sea! a glimpse of Wessel rent
Thy murky sky!
Then champions to thine arms were sent;
Terror and Death glared where he went;
From the waves was heard a wail, that rent
Thy murky sky!
From Denmark, thunders Tordenskiol’,
Let each to Heaven commend his soul,
And flyl

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