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When is man strong until he feels alone ?
Colombe's Birthday. Act iii.
Men and Women. Bishop Blougram's Apology.
The sprinkled isles,
Sappho survives, because we sing her songs;
xii, God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures Boasts two soul-sides,
one to face the world with, One to show a woman when he loves her!
Oh their Rafael of the dear Madonnas,
The lie was dead
Count Gismond. xiii.
xia Just my vengeance complete,
The man sprang to his feet,
Instans Tyrannus. vii
Oh never star Was lost here but it rose afar.
Sing, riding's a joy! For me I ride.
The last Ride together. rii When the liquor's out, why clink the cannikin?
· The Flight of the Duchess. coi That low man seeks a little thing to do,
Sees it and does it;
Dies ere he knows it.
His hundred 's soon hit;
Misses an unit.
Let the world mind him !
Seeking shall find him.
A Grammarian's Funeral.
The Statue and the Brust.
Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.
Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came, Trziu.
Just for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a riband to stick in his coat.
The Lost Leader. é
We shall march prospering, — not thro' his presence;
Songs may inspirit us, -- not from his lyre;
The Lost Leader. ii. They are perfect; how else ? — they shall never change: We are faulty; why not? we have time in store.
Old Pictures in Florence. xvi. What's come to perfection perishes. Things learned on earth we shall practise in heaven; Works done least rapidly Art most cherishes.
xrii Italy, my Italy ! Queen Mary's saying serves for me
(When fortune's malice
Lost her Calais):
Graved inside of it . Italy.'” De Gustibus. it. That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, you
should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture.
Home-Thoughts from Abroad. il. God made all the creatures, and gave them our love and
our fear, To give sign we and they are his children, one family here.
Saul. vi. How good is man's life, the mere living! how fit to
employ All the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy!
ix. 'T is not what man does which exalts him, but what man would do.
xviii. O woman-country!' wooed not wed,
Loved all the more by earth's male-lands,
By the Fireside. vi
That great brow And the spirit-small hand propping it.
the Fireside. Iniä. If two lives join, there is oft a scar.
They are one and one, with a shadowy third; One near one is too far.
Only I discern Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn. Two in the Campagna, zii. Round and round, like a dance of snow In a dazzling drift, as its guardians, go Floating the women faded for ages, Sculptured in stone on the poet's pages.
Women and Roses
How he lies in his rights of a man!
And did he stop and speak to you,
How strange it seems, and new!
Luria. Act ii.
I count life just a stuff
In a Balcony
No feat which, done, would make time break,
Into eternity, our due ?
Dis Aliter Visum; or, Le Byron de nos Jours. There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall
live as before; The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound; What was good shall be good, with for evil so much good
more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.
Abt Vogler. iz. Then welcome each rebuff
That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go!
Be our joys three-parts pain !
Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe !
Rabbi Ben Ezra.
A Death in the Desert
The body sprang At once to the height, and stayed; but the soul, - no! What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up, And be discharged, and straight wound up anew ? No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets: May learn a thousand things, not twice the same.