A Memorial of Alice and Phoebe Cary: With Some of Their Later Poems

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Hurd and Houghton, 1873 - Počet stran: 351
 

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Strana 160 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist : A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Strana 50 - Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes? For now I see the true old times are dead, When every morning brought a noble chance , And every chance brought out a noble knight.
Strana 51 - More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Strana 51 - And slowly answered Arthur from the barge : ' The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils Himself in many ways, Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
Strana 51 - I have lived my life, and that which I have done May He within Himself make pure I but thou, If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
Strana 51 - That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now farewell. I am going a long way With these thou see'st — if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) — To the island-valley of Avilion; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair...
Strana 177 - O, if my mortal feet Have almost gained the brink ; If it be I am nearer home Even to-day than I think ; Father, perfect my trust ; Let my spirit feel in death That her feet are firmly set On the rock of a living faith ! Yet like Alice with her " Pictures of Memory," she did not set a high intellectual value upon it.
Strana 7 - Under their tassels ; cattle near, Biting shorter the short, green grass, And a hedge of sumach and sassafras, With bluebirds twittering all around— (Ah, good painter, you can't paint sound!) These, and the house where I was born, Low and little, and black and old, With children, many as it can hold, All at the windows, open wide— Heads and shoulders clear outside, And fair young faces all ablush: Perhaps you may have seen, some day, Roses crowding the self-same way Out of a wilding, wayside...
Strana 28 - Years since (but names to me before), Two sisters sought at eve my door ; Two song-birds wandering from their nest, A gray old farm-house in the West. Timid and young, the elder had Even then a smile too sweetly sad ; The crown of pain that all must wear Too early pressed her midnight hair. Yet, ere the summer eve grew long, Her modest lips were sweet with song, A memory haunted all her words Of clover-fields and singing-birds.
Strana 7 - Alway and alway, night and morn, Woods upon woods, with fields of corn Lying between them, not quite sere, And not in the full, thick, leafy bloom, When the wind can hardly find...

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