The Poetical Works of Jean Ingelow: Including The Shepherd Lady, and Other Poems

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T.Y. Crowell & Company, 1887 - 520 หน้า
 

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หน้า 104 - 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. And rearing Lindis backward pressed, Shook all her trembling bankes amaine ; Then madly at the eygre's breast Flung uppe her.
หน้า 103 - (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.
หน้า 116 - 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? I hope, if you have, you will soon be forgiven, And shine again in your place.
หน้า 107 - 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.
หน้า 116 - O columbine, open your folded wrapper, Where two twin turtle-doves dwell ! 0 cuckoopint, toll me the purple clapper That hangs in your clear green bell ! And show me your nest with the young ones in it ; I will not steal them away ; 1 am old ! you may trust me, linnet, linnet — I am seven times one today.
หน้า 119 - I'll love him more, more Than e'er wife loved before, Be the days dark or bright. SEVEN TIMES FOUR. MATERNITY. Heigh ho ! daisies and buttercups, Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall ! When the wind wakes how they rock in the grasses, And dance with the cuckoo-buds slender and small ! Here's two bonny boys, and here's mother's own lasses Eager to gather them all.
หน้า 125 - I pray you, what is the nest to me, My empty nest ? And what is the shore where I stood to see My boat sail down to the west ? Can I call that home where I anchor yet, Though my good man has sailed ? Can I call that home where my nest was set, Now all its hope hath failed? Nay, but the port where my sailor went, And the land where my nestlings be : There is the home where my thoughts are sent, The only home for me — Ah me ! A COTTAGE IN A CHESTE.
หน้า 5 - And yet I know past all doubting, truly — A knowledge greater than grief can dim— I know, as he loved, he will love me duly — Yea better — e'en better than I love him. And as I walk by the vast calm river, The awful river so dread to see, I say, ' Thy breadth and thy depth for ever Are bridged by his thoughts that cross to me.
หน้า 117 - You bells in the steeple, ring, ring out your changes, How many soever they be, • And let the brown meadow-lark's note as he ranges Come over, come over to me. Yet birds' clearest carol by fall or by swelling No magical sense conveys, And bells have forgotten their old art of telling The fortune of future days. H
หน้า 102 - Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!" calling, Ere the early dews were falling, Farre away I heard her song. " Cusha! Cusha!" all along; Where the reedy Lindis floweth, Floweth, floweth, From the meads where melick groweth Faintly came her milking song — "Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!

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