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  1. Há 5 dias · Decay Of Piety. Oft have I seen, ere Time had ploughed my cheek, Matrons and Sires who, punctual to the call. Of their loved Church, on fast or festival. Through the long year the house of Prayer would seek: By Christmas snows, by visitation bleak. Of Easter winds, unscared, from hut or hall.

  2. Há 4 dias · To A Sky-lark. Up with me! up with me into the clouds! For thy song, Lark, is strong; Up with me, up with me into the clouds! Singing, singing, With clouds and sky about thee ringing, Lift me, guide me till I find. That spot which seems so to thy mind! I have walked through wildernesses dreary.

  3. Há 2 dias · While thus from theme to theme the Historian passed, The words he uttered, and the scene that lay Before our eyes, awakened in my mind Vivid remembrance of those long-past hours; When, in the holl

  4. Há 3 dias · It Is A Beauteous Evening, Calm And Free. It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun. Breathless with adoration; the broad sun. Is sinking down in its tranquility; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea; Listen! the mighty Being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make.

  5. Há 3 dias · The print of Lucy's feet. And to the Bridge they came. And further there were none. Upon the lonesome Wild. That whistles in the wind. Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray, And when I cross'd the Wild, I chanc'd to see at break of day The solitary Child. No Mate, no comrade Lucy knew; She dwel.

  6. Há 3 dias · But the greyhound in the leash hung back, And checked him in his leap. The Boy is in the arms of Wharf, And strangled by a merciless force; For never more was young Romilly seen. Till he rose a lifeless corse. Now there is stillness in the vale, And long, unspeaking, sorrow: Wharf shall be to pitying hearts.

  7. Há 2 dias · The Egyptian Maid. While Merlin paced the Cornish sands, Forth-looking toward the rocks of Scilly, The pleased Enchanter was aware. Of a bright Ship that seemed to hang in air, Yet was she work of mortal hands, And took from men her name - The Water Lily. Soft was the wind, that landward blew; And, as the Moon, o'er some dark hill ascendant,