Poems, Band 2

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Seite 306 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints.
Seite 218 - Sleep soft, beloved !" we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep. But never doleful dream again. Shall break the happy slumber when He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Seite 11 - 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 ! They are weeping in the playtime of the others, In the country of the free.
Seite 222 - And wrought within his shattered brain such quick poetic senses As hills have language for, and stars, harmonious influences ; The pulse of dew upon the grass kept his within its number, And silent shadows from the trees refreshed him like a slumber.
Seite 304 - FIRST time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write ; And, ever since, it grew more clean and white, . . Slow to world-greetings . . quick with its ' Oh, list,: When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear here, plainer to my sight, Than that first kiss. The second passed in height The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed. Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed! That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown, With sanctifying sweetness,...
Seite 112 - I TELL you, hopeless grief is passionless ; That only men incredulous of despair, Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air Beat upward to God's throne in loud access Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness In souls as countries, lieth silent-bare Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare Of the absolute Heavens.
Seite 171 - THERE is no God,' the foolish saith, But none, ' There is no sorrow,' And nature oft the cry of faith, In bitter need will borrow : Eyes, which the preacher could not school, By wayside graves are raised, And lips say, ' God be pitiful,' Who ne'er said,
Seite 212 - God is so good he wears a fold Of heaven and earth across his face, Like secrets kept for love, untold. But still I feel that his embrace Slides down by thrills through all things made, — Through sight and sound of every place. As if my tender mother laid On my shut lips her kisses' pressure, Half waking me at night, and said ' ' Who kissed you through the dark, dear guesser ?
Seite 288 - The face of all the world is changed, I think, Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink, Was caught up into love, and taught the whole Of life in a new rhythm.
Seite 288 - The widest land Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine With pulses that beat double. What I do And what I dream include thee, as the wine Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue God for myself, He hears that name of thine, And sees within my eyes the tears of two.

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