Poetical Works

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Roberts, 1880 - 245 ˹éÒ
 

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˹éÒ 95 - Of old hast thou laid the foundation of the earth: and the heavens are the work of thy hands. They shall perish, but thou shalt endure: yea, all of them shall wax old like a garment; as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed: But thou art the same, and thy years shall have no end.
˹éÒ 149 - Elizabeth! Elizabeth!' (A sweeter woman ne'er drew breath Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.) 'The olde sea wall (he cried) is downe, The rising tide comes on apace. And boats adrift in yonder towne Go sailing uppe the market-place.' He shook as one that looks on death: 'God save you, mother!' straight he saith; 'Where is my wife, Elizabeth?' 'Good sonne, where Lindis winds away, With her two bairns I marked her long; And ere yon bells beganne to play Afar I heard her milking song.
˹éÒ 151 - And didst thou visit him no more? Thou didst, thou didst my daughter deare; The waters laid thee at his doore, Ere yet the early dawn was clear. Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace, The lifted sun shone on thy face, Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place.
˹éÒ 147 - I sat and spun within the doore, My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes ; The level sun, like ruddy ore, Lay sinking in the barren skies ; And dark against day's golden death She moved where Lindis wandereth, My sonne's faire wife, Elizabeth. "Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!" calling, Ere the early dews were falling, Farre away I heard her song. "Cusha'! Cusha!
˹éÒ 150 - So farre, so fast the eygre drave, The heart had hardly time to beat, Before a shallow seething wave Sobbed in the grasses at oure feet: The feet had hardly time to flee Before it brake against the knee, And all the world was in the sea, Upon the roofe we...
˹éÒ 150 - With that he cried and beat his breast ; For, lo ! along the river's bed A mighty eygre reared his crest, And uppe the Lindis raging sped. It swept with thunderous noises loud ; Shaped like a curling snow-white cloud, Or like a demon in a shroud.
˹éÒ 149 - Lindis flows To where the goodly vessels lie, And where the lordly steeple shows. They sayde, " And why should this thing be, What danger lowers by land or sea? They ring the tune of Enderby ! " For evil news from Mablethorpe, Of pyrate galleys warping...
˹éÒ 165 - THERE'S no dew left on the daisies and - clover, There's no rain left in heaven : I've said my "seven times" over and over, Seven times one are seven. I am old, so old, I can write a letter ; My birthday lessons are done; The lambs play always, they know no better ; They are only one times one.
˹éÒ 148 - Swift as an arrowe, sharpe and strong ; And all the aire, it seemeth mee, Bin full of floating bells (sayth shee), That ring the tune of Enderby. Alle fresh the level pasture lay, And not a shadowe mote be scene, Save where full fyve good miles away The steeple towered from out the greene ; And lo!
˹éÒ 165 - They are only one times one. 0 moon! in the night I have seen you sailing And shining so round and low; You were bright! ah bright! but your light is failing — You are nothing now but a bow. You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven That God has hidden your face? 1 hope if you have you will soon be forgiven, And shine again in your place.

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