An Anthology of Mother VerseHoughton Mifflin, 1917 - 194 страница |
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Страница 11
... weep , To tease until her heart is sore , Then kiss and clear the score ; A gypsy run - the - fields , A little liberal daughter of the earth , Good for what hour of truancy and mirth The careless season yields Hither - side the flood ...
... weep , To tease until her heart is sore , Then kiss and clear the score ; A gypsy run - the - fields , A little liberal daughter of the earth , Good for what hour of truancy and mirth The careless season yields Hither - side the flood ...
Страница 18
... swoon'd nor utter'd cry . All her maidens , watching , said , " She must weep or she will die . " Then they praised him , soft and low , Call'd 18 To Mother Song from "The Princess" ("Home they brought her warrior dead")
... swoon'd nor utter'd cry . All her maidens , watching , said , " She must weep or she will die . " Then they praised him , soft and low , Call'd 18 To Mother Song from "The Princess" ("Home they brought her warrior dead")
Страница 34
... ; nay , let them go forth at the wheels Of the guns , and denied not . But then the surprise When one sits quite alone ! Then one weeps , then one kneels ! God , how the house feels ! At first , happy news came , in gay letters 34 To ...
... ; nay , let them go forth at the wheels Of the guns , and denied not . But then the surprise When one sits quite alone ! Then one weeps , then one kneels ! God , how the house feels ! At first , happy news came , in gay letters 34 To ...
Страница 45
... tear , if souls can weep in bliss- Ah , that maternal smile ! it answers - Yes . I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day , I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away , And , turning from my nursery window , drew A 45 Mothers of Men.
... tear , if souls can weep in bliss- Ah , that maternal smile ! it answers - Yes . I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day , I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away , And , turning from my nursery window , drew A 45 Mothers of Men.
Страница 54
... weep , my love hold no woman cheap , And see you give no woman scorn For that dark night when you were born . Beloved , all my years belong To you , go thread them for a song . Irene Rutherford McLeod ONE MOTHER MARY ! I'm quite alone ...
... weep , my love hold no woman cheap , And see you give no woman scorn For that dark night when you were born . Beloved , all my years belong To you , go thread them for a song . Irene Rutherford McLeod ONE MOTHER MARY ! I'm quite alone ...
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Чести термини и фразе
ain wife angel arms Auld Daddy Darkness babe Baby-Land bairnies beautiful bird Blynken breast breath bright brow cheek Christina G cradle cuddle doon darling dream earth Eugene Field eyes face fair Father fear feet fold gaze gentle gi'e my ain grief hair hands hath head hear heart heaven holy hush Jane Taylor John Banister Tabb Josiah Gilbert Holland kiss knee lambs LENOX TILDEN light lips Little baby dear Lord lullaby mamma melodious hills morning nest never night o'er old arm-chair ony wife pray prayer pretty purple clover rest Robert Underwood Johnson Roden Noel round Rudyard Kipling shines sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow star sweet tears thee There's thine things thou art thy mother voice wadna gi'e weep wife For ony William Allingham William Wordsworth wings woman Wynken YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY
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Страница 43 - With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, ' Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!
Страница 68 - But peaceful was the night, Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began...
Страница 119 - And, sitting down before the heat of day, She took me on her lap and kissed me, And. pointing to the east, began to say: "Look on the rising sun: there God does live, And gives his light, and gives his heat away; And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday. "And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love; And these black bodies and this sunburnt face Are but a cloud and like a shady grove.
Страница 68 - But He, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace : She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere, His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing ; And waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.
Страница 44 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was.
Страница 46 - Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods that show Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay ; So thou, with sails how swift ! hast reached the shore, " Where tempests never beat nor billows roar,"* And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life long since has anchored by thy side.
Страница 167 - SHE was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight ; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament...
Страница 46 - When, playing with thy vesture's tissued flowers, 75 The violet, the pink, and jessamine, I pricked them into paper with a pin, (And thou wast happier than myself the while, Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head and smile), Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here I would not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.
Страница 72 - The oracles are dumb ; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving.
Страница 43 - Faithful remembrancer of one so dear, 0 welcome guest, though unexpected here! Who bidst me honour with an artless song, Affectionate, a mother lost so long. 1 will obey, not willingly alone, But gladly as the precept were her own: And, while that face renews my filial grief, Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief, Shall steep me in Elysian reverie, A momentary dream, that thou art she.