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Страница 166 - will seek the groves Where the lady Mary is, With her five handmaidens, whose names Are five sweet symphonies, Cecily, Gertrude, Magdalen, Margaret, and Rosalys.
Страница 166 - And the souls mounting up to God Went by her like thin flames. And still she bowed herself and stooped Out of the circling charm; Until her bosom must have made The bar she leaned on warm, And the lilies lay as if asleep Along her bended arm. From the fixed place of Heaven she saw Time like a pulse shake fierce Through all the worlds.
Страница 166 - THE blessed damozel leaned out From the gold bar of Heaven ; Her eyes were deeper than the depth Of waters stilled at even ; She had three lilies in her hand, And the stars in her hair were seven.
Страница 51 - I care not much for gold or land ; — Give me a mortgage here and there, — Some good bank-stock, — some note of hand, Or trifling railroad share; — I only ask that Fortune send A little more than I shall spend. Honors are silly toys, I know, And titles are but empty names; — I would, perhaps, be Plenipo, — But only near St.
Страница 166 - Her hair that lay along her back Was yellow like ripe corn. Herseemed she scarce had been a day One of God's choristers; The wonder was not yet quite gone From that still look of hers; Albeit, to them she left, her day Had counted as ten years.
Страница 166 - I wish that he were come to me, For he will come,' she said. ' Have I not prayed in Heaven ? — on earth, Lord, Lord, has he not...
Страница 166 - She gazed and listened and then said, Less sad of speech than mild — "All this is when he comes.
Страница 52 - tis a sin To care for such unfruitful things; — One good-sized diamond in a pin, — Some, not so large, in rings, — A ruby, and a pearl, or so, Will do for me; — I laugh at show. My dame should dress in cheap attire; (Good, heavy silks are never dear;) — I own perhaps I might desire Some shawls of true Cashmere, — Some marrowy crapes of China silk, Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk.
Страница 166 - Herself shall bring us, hand in hand, To Him round whom all souls Kneel, the clear-ranged unnumbered heads Bowed with their aureoles; And angels meeting us shall sing To their citherns and citoles.