Souvenir of modern minstrelsy: a collection of original and select poetry by living writers

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Page x - The time draws near the birth of Christ. The moon is hid, the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist. Four voices of four hamlets round, From far and near, on mead and moor, Swell out and fail, as if a door Were shut between me and the sound; Each voice four changes on the wind, That now dilate, and now decrease, 10 Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace, Peace and goodwill, to all mankind.
Page xiii - And age was pleased, in heat of noon, to bask beneath its boughs; The dormouse loved its dangling twigs the birds sweet music bore; It stood a glory in its place, a blessing evermore. A little spring had lost its way amid the grass and fern, A passing...
Page 226 - A DICTIONARY, SANSKRIT AND ENGLISH, extended and improved from the Second Edition of the Dictionary of Professor HH WILSON, with his sanction and concurrence.
Page 123 - Pullings off of all that's able To be caught from tray or table; Silences, small meditations Deep as thoughts of cares for nations, Breaking into wisest speeches In a tongue that nothing teaches, All the thoughts of whose possessing Must be wooed to light by guessing; Slumbers, such sweet angel-seemings That we'd ever have such dreamings, Till from sleep we see thee breaking, And we'd always have thee waking; Wealth...
Page 13 - Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow : The year is going, let him go ; Ring out the false, ring in the true. Ring out the grief that saps the mind, For those that here we see no more ; Ring out the feud of rich and poor, Ring in redress to all mankind. Ring out a slowly dying cause, And ancient forms of party strife ; Ring in the nobler modes of life, With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Page 29 - We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most — feels the noblest — acts the best.
Page xiv - Twas old, and yet was new — A simple fancy of the brain, But strong in being true ; It shone upon a genial mind, And lo ! its light became A lamp of life, a beacon ray, A monitory flame. The thought was small — its issue great : A watch-fire on the hill, It sheds its radiance far adown, And cheers the valley still ! A nameless man, amid a crowd That...
Page 34 - Long-ago. On that deep-retiring shore Frequent pearls of beauty lie, Where the passion-waves of yore Fiercely beat and mounted high : Sorrows that are sorrows still Lose the bitter taste of woe ; Nothing's altogether ill In the griefs of Long-ago. Tombs where lonely love repines, Ghastly tenements of tears, Wear the look of happy shrines Through the golden mist of years...
Page 126 - BABY'S SHOES. OH those little, those little blue shoes ! Those shoes that no little feet use. Oh the price were high That those shoes would buy, Those little blue unused shoes ! For they hold the small shape of feet That no more their mother's eyes meet, That, by God's good will, Years since, grew still, And ceased from their totter so sweet.
Page 123 - Throwings back and small alarms, Clutching fingers — straightening jerks, Twining feet whose each toe works, Kickings up and straining risings, Mother's ever new surprisings, Hands all wants and looks all wonder At all things the heavens under, Tiny scorns of smiled reprovings That have more of love than lovings, Mischiefs done with such a winning Archness that we prize such sinning...

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