The Tide of Even, and Other Poems, with Tales and Songs

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Side 81 - And now — behold him kneeling there By the child's side, in humble prayer, While the same sunbeam shines upon The guilty and the guiltless one, And hymns of joy proclaim through heaven The triumph of a soul forgiven...
Side 81 - Twas a bright smile the Angel threw From heaven's gate, to hail that tear Her harbinger of glory near. " Joy, joy for ever ! my task is done — The gates are passed, and heaven is won ! Oh ! am I not happy?
Side 76 - No, no ! When the stem dies, the leaf that grew Out of its heart must perish too. Then turn to me, my own love, turn, Before, like thee, I fade and burn ; Cling to these yet cool lips and share The last pure life that lingers there.
Side 139 - Fly to the desert, fly with me, Our Arab tents are rude for thee ; But oh ! the choice what heart can doubt Of tents with love, or thrones without ? Our rocks are rough, but smiling there Th' acacia waves her yellow hair, Lonely and sweet, nor lov'd the less For flowering in a wilderness.
Side 140 - A gem away, that thou hadst sworn Should ever in thy heart be worn. Come, if the love thou hast for me Is pure and fresh as mine for thee, — Fresh as the fountain under ground...
Side 81 - thou blessed child ! When, young and haply pure as thou, I look'd and pray'd like thee ; but now — " He hung his head ; each nobler aim And hope and feeling, which had slept From boyhood's hour, that instant came Fresh o'er him, and he wept — he wept! Blest tears of soul-felt penitence ! In whose benign, redeeming flow Is felt the first, the only sense Of guiltless joy that guilt can know.
Side 77 - O'er all the enchanted regions there, How beauteous must have been the glow, The life, the sparkling from below! Fair gardens, shining streams, with ranks Of golden melons on their banks, More golden where the sunlight falls; Gay lizards, glittering on the...
Side 126 - One, — what a rapture is his. Who in moonlight and music thus sweetly may glide O'er the Lake of Cashmere, with that One by his side ! If woman can make the worst wilderness dear. Think, think what a heaven she must make of Cashmere...
Side 97 - I never loved a tree or flower but 'twas the first to fade away ; I never nursed a dear Gazelle, to glad me with its soft black eye, but when it came to know me well, and love me, it was sure to marry a marketgardener.
Side 27 - And music, too — dear music ! that can touch Beyond all else the soul that loves it much — Now heard far off, so far as but to seem Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream; All was too much for him, too full of bliss, The heart could nothing feel, that felt not this...

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