The mistletoe, by the author of 'The wedding bells'.

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Side 41 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring. Or chasms and wat'ry depths ; all these have vanished They live no longer in the faith of reason...
Side 92 - Tis not merely The human being's Pride that peoples space With life and mystical predominance ; Since likewise for the stricken heart of Love This visible nature, and this common world, Is all too narrow: yea, a deeper import Lurks in the legend told my infant years Than lies upon that truth, we live to learn.
Side 79 - All deep things are Song. It seems somehow the very central essence of us, Song; as if all the rest were but wrappages and hulls! The primal element of us; of us, and of all things. The Greeks fabled of Sphere-Harmonies; it was the feeling they had of the inner structure of Nature; that the soul of all her voices and utterances was perfect music.
Side 108 - It is one of the theories of the party to which I have the honour to belong, and which has acquired the soubriquet of ' Young England,' whose pride and honour is in the opprobrium and jeers of the unchivalric many.
Side 146 - It drawl, it pulls me with a godlike power ; And lo 1 the abyss...
Side 160 - Each one tripping on his toe, " Shall be here with mop and mow.

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