Sybil Lennard: A Record of Woman's Life

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Page 52 - Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people...
Page 93 - ... shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me— Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too well: Long, long shall I rue thee, Too deeply to tell. In secret we met— In silence I grieve That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee?— With silence and tears.
Page 88 - They mourn, but smile at length ; and, smiling, mourn, The tree will wither long before it fall ; The hull drives on, though mast and sail be torn ; The roof-tree sinks, but moulders on the hall In massy hoariness ; the...
Page 108 - 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...
Page 61 - WHEN we two parted . In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted, To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss ; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this. The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow — It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame ; I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear ; A shudder comes o'er me — Why wert thou so dear ? They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee...
Page 38 - They have been with me through the dreamy night — The blessed household voices, wont to fill My heart's clear depths with unalloy'd delight ! I hear them still, unchanged: — though some from earth Are music parted, and the tones of mirth — Wild, silvery tones, that rang through days more bright ! Have died in others, — yet to me they come, Singing of boyhood back — the voices of my home ! II.
Page 6 - HILD of the Country ! free as air Art thou, and as the sunshine fair ; Born like th'e lily, where the dew Lies odorous when the day is new ; Fed 'mid the May-flowers like the bee, Nursed to sweet music on the knee...
Page 52 - twill impart Some pangs to view his happier lot: But let them pass— Oh! how my heart Would hate him, if he loved thee not! When late I saw thy favourite child I thought my jealous heart would break; But when the unconscious infant smiled, I kiss'd it for its mother's sake.
Page 53 - Fair shoulders, curling lip, and dauntless brow — Fit for the world's strife, not for poet's dreaming; .And proud the lifting of thy stately head, And the firm bearing of thy conscious tread.
Page 84 - And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends And youths and maidens gay!

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