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Love me for the house and grave,
And for something higher.
Thus, if thou wilt prove me, dear,
Woman's love no fable,
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.
T me one night the angry moon
Suspended to a rim of cloud
We sinn'd-we sin-is that a dream ?
Embrace me, fiends and wicked men,
Singly we pass the gloomy gate;
Who of themselves are not aware ;
All is so usual, hour by hour;
little gust of sense ;
Thou wilt not frown, O God. Yet we
REAK, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
O well for the fisherman's boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay !
And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still !
Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea,
I have been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April, dress’d in all his
VIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forest of the night!
In what distant deeps or skies
? On what wings dare he aspireWhat the hand dare seize the fire ?
And what shoulder, and what art
What the hammer, what the chain ?
(FROM THE SPANISH OF IGLESIAS.)
LEXIS calls me cruel ;
The rifted crags that hold The gather'd ice of winter,
He says, are not more cold.
When even the
blossoms Around the fountain's brim, And forest walks can witness
The love I bear to him.
I would that I could utter
My feelings without shame;
Nor wrong my virgin fame.
Alas! to seize the moment
If no one comes to gather
(See the various Poems, the scene of which is laid
nks of the Yarrow; in particular the exquisite Ballad of Hamilton, beginning :
“ Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny, bonny Bride,
66 winsome Marrow,"
“ Let Yarrow folk, frae Selkirk town,