Annual Report

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Página 50 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak She quells the floods below, As they roar on the shore When the stormy winds do blow ; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow!
Página 55 - You cannot call it love : for at your age, The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment, and what judgment Would step from this to this?
Página 45 - Excitements of my reason and my blood, And let all sleep, while, to my shame, I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That, for a fantasy and trick of fame, Go to their graves like beds...
Página 78 - Bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word, which madness Would gambol from.
Página 56 - There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke ; When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook.
Página 114 - SUNSET and evening star, And one clear call for me. And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark: And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho...
Página 49 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave; For the deck it was their field of fame, And ocean was their grave.
Página 96 - Branches they bore of that enchanted stem, Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave To each, but whoso did receive of them And taste, to him the gushing of the wave Far far away did seem to mourn and rave On alien shores...
Página 44 - I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay : Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Página 75 - Leave to the nightingale her shady wood; A privacy of glorious light is thine; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine; Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home...

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