This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1895 Excerpt: ...which either thinks. Responsive to the self-same chords Their tongues are tuned to chiming words, They watch with sympathetic eye Lake, tarn, and mountain, earth and sky, And lost in kindred rapture hail All loveliness of hill and dale, Of sight and sound--the spring's first trill, The daisy and the daffodil. 'We ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1895 Excerpt: ...which either thinks. Responsive to the self-same chords Their tongues are tuned to chiming words, They watch with sympathetic eye Lake, tarn, and mountain, earth and sky, And lost in kindred rapture hail All loveliness of hill and dale, Of sight and sound--the spring's first trill, The daisy and the daffodil. 'We walked along the waterside And saw a few bright daffodils: And far and farther on the shore, Beside the woods, below the hills, They grew in number more and more, Long belts of shining daffodils: They made the mossy stones their pillow And laid their golden heads upon them, And not a sunflake on the billow Could sparkle so that it outshone them: They tossed, and reeled, and danced, and seemed (While ever the merry sunbeams streamed Across their mystic dancing) As if they verily danced with a wind Blown from a land where no man sinned, They looked so gay and glancing.' Ah, dear dead heart, thy fancies thrill Through all thy brother's harpstrings still, As fresh as any daffodil. AN OLD ENIGMA. Quenched is the light of his face, Dulled is the fire of his eye, Naught can relume or replace Life in the veins that are dry, Love in the lips you embrace. Never again shall he see Summer or rapture of spring, Never again shall he be Tranced as the nightingales sing--Colder than winter is he. Spirit which nothing could tame, Why art thou darkened and dumb? Hero or martyr, thy name Should through the ages have come Lighting the world like a flame. Longing an answer to find Vainly our broken hearts bleed, Hard is the web to unwind, Dark is the riddle to read, Blindly we grope with the blind. A VIGNETTE OF VENICE. No wind was on the still lagoon, The tide was half 'twixt ebb and flow, And sailing slow a silver moon Shone down upon San Spirito: And silent as that ...
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Seller's Description:
Used-Good. Good hardback in green cloth. End papers & rough-cut page edges a little browned; owner's name on front free end paper; a few spots of foxing; spine bumped & a little worn at head & foot, with slight dent; slight discolouration to cloth on boards.
