North Country Poets: Poems and Biographies of Natives Or Residents of Northumberland, Cumberland, Westmoreland, Durham, Lancashire and Yorkshire ... : (modern Section)

William Andrews
Simpkin, 1888

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Página 34 - Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years? They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, And that cannot stop their tears. The young lambs are bleating in the meadows: The young birds are chirping in the nest; The young fawns are playing with the shadows; The young flowers are blowing toward the west — But the young, young children, O my brothers, They are weeping bitterly ! 10 They are weeping in the playtime of the others, In the country of the...
Página 231 - He came not, — no, he came not, — The night came on alone, — The little stars sat one by one, Each on his golden throne ; The evening wind passed by my cheek, The leaves above were stirred, — But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard.
Página 35 - With a cerement from the grave. Go out, children, from the mine and from the city, Sing out, children, as the little thrushes do: Pluck your handfuls of the meadow-cowslips pretty, Laugh aloud, to feel your fingers let them through!
Página 40 - His dews drop mutely on the hill, His cloud above it saileth still, Though on its slope men sow and reap : More softly than the dew is shed, Or cloud is floated overhead, He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Página 284 - Now if any man build upon this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble; every man's work shall be made manifest; for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is.
Página 125 - Or wist, what first with dawn appeared ! To veer, how vain! On, onward strain. Brave barks! In light, in darkness too, Through winds and tides one compass guides, — To that, and your own selves, be true. But...
Página 38 - how long, O cruel nation, Will you stand, to move the world, on a child's heart? Stifle down with a mailed heel its palpitation. And tread onward to your throne amid the mart ! Our blood splashes upward...
Página 126 - O ONLY Source of all our light and life, Whom as our truth, our strength, we see and feel, But whom the hours of mortal moral strife Alone aright reveal ! Mine inmost soul, before Thee inly brought, Thy presence owns ineffable, divine ; Chastised each rebel self-encentered thought, My will adoreth Thine.
Página 37 - Two words, Indeed, of praying we remember, And at midnight's hour of harm, 'Our Father," looking upward in the chamber, We say softly for a charm. We know no other words except 'Our Father...
Página 38 - YES," I answered you last night ; " No," this morning, sir, I say. Colours seen by candle-light, Will not look the same by day. When the viols played their best, Lamps above, and laughs below — Love me sounded like a jest, Fit for Yes or fit for No. Call me false, or call me free — Vow, whatever light may shine, No man on your face shall see Any grief for change on mine.

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