Voices of the True-hearted

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Merrihew & Thompson, printers, 1846 - 288 psl.

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270 psl. - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, — The desert and illimitable air, — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere ; Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near...
249 psl. - 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 !
249 psl. - Work - work work Till the brain begins to swim! Work - work - work Till the eyes are heavy and dim! Seam , and gusset , and band , Band , and gusset , and seam , Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew them on in a dream! "O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out , But human creatures
165 psl. - The picture of the mind revives again : While here I stand, not only with the sense Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts That in this moment there is life and food For future years.
67 psl. - What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine. Ay, call it holy ground, — The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God ! Felicia Hemans.
207 psl. - The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face. "And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to stately height, Her virgin bosom swell; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give While she and I together live Here in this happy dell.
208 psl. - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
256 psl. - Mysterious Night ! when our first Parent knew Thee from report divine, and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue ? Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, Hesperus with the host of heaven came; And lo, Creation widened in man's view.
165 psl. - The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm., By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
165 psl. - Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, And mountains ; and of all that we behold From this green earth ; of all the mighty world Of eye and ear, both what they half create,* And what perceive ; well pleased to recognise In Nature and the language of the sense, The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul Of all my moral being.

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