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Pāgina 6 - I remember, I remember 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 fir-trees dark and high ; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky. It was a childish ignorance, — But now 'tis little joy: To know I'm farther off from heaven Than when I was a boy ! THOMAS HOOD.
Pāgina 68 - Down went the Royal George With all her crew complete. Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone; His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle; No tempest gave the shock; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.
Pāgina 168 - Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid ; Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.
Pāgina 174 - Lord, it is my chief complaint, That my love is weak and faint ; Yet I love thee and adore, Oh for grace to love thee more ! + CXIX.
Pāgina 98 - Say, Father, say, If yet my task is done!" He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. "Speak, Father!" once again he cried, "If I may yet be gone!
Pāgina 156 - I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter ! — oh my daughter...
Pāgina 22 - But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot on the correi, Sage counsel in cumber.
Pāgina 38 - With that grim ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul, Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick ; Who cried aloud, " What scourge for perjury Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence...
Pāgina 66 - TOLL for the brave ! The brave that are no more ! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore ! Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel, And laid her on her side. A land-breeze shook the shrouds, And she was overset ; Down went the Royal George, With all her crew complete.