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abound Band Beneath Bloody Bloody Hand bone bough breath brow brown close cloth cloud cold dark dead death door dream dreary drops earth echo eyes face fair fall fear feel fell field flesh forest frame gloomy grave hand heart heaven heavy hollow hope horrid human hung Illustrated JAMES knew labor leaves lies light living lofty elms abound look moan mould murder murmured overhead mystery the spirit mystic never night place is haunted plain as whisper poor ragged remember ringing roof round rugged sad and solemn Seam secret seemed sense of mystery Series shadow shady avenue shape shone sigh silent sleep solemn sound sometimes Song soul spirit daunted stair stands stir stitch stroke sudden Take tears thing thought tongue took tool tree trunk turn underground universal voice volumes walk wall weary wood
Page 62 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this "Song of the Shirt.
Page 67 - Oh! but to breathe the breath Of the cowslip and primrose sweet. With the sky above my head. And the grass beneath my feet ; For only one short hour To feel as I used to feel, Before I knew the woes of want And the walk that costs a meal!
Page 60 - Fashion'd so slenderly, Young, and so fair! Ere her limbs frigidly Stiffen too rigidly, Decently, — kindly, — Smooth, and compose them; And her eyes, close them, Staring so blindly! Dreadfully staring Through muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fixed on futurity.
Page 59 - Where the lamps quiver So far in the river, With many a light From window and casement, From garret to basement, She stood, with amazement, Houseless by night. The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver; But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river: Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery, Swift to be hurl'd Anywhere, anywhere, Out of the world!
Page 79 - Ines had always, for me, an inexpressible charm : O saw ye not fair Ines ? She's gone into the West, To dazzle when the sun is down. And rob the world of rest...
Page 66 - Work — work — work! My labor never flags; And what are its wages? A bed of straw, A crust of bread — and rags, That shattered roof — and this naked floor • A table — a broken chair — And a wall so blank my shadow I thank For sometimes falling there!
Page 57 - Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny Rash and undutiful: Past all dishonour Death has left on her Only the beautiful.
Page 13 - TWAS in the prime of summer time, An evening calm and cool, And four-and-twenty happy boys Came bounding out of school : There were some that ran and some that leapt, Like troutlets in a pool.