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. 1903 Excerpt: ...and half afraid Lay gazing on the village lights, That glimmered o'er the neighboring heights, In sleepless woe. The summer's tender glow is fled, The early budding flowers are dead, But others, with their leaves scarce paled, And their flushed bosoms all unveiled, In bloom remain; Printed In "Lyra," as well as in the ...
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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. 1903 Excerpt: ...and half afraid Lay gazing on the village lights, That glimmered o'er the neighboring heights, In sleepless woe. The summer's tender glow is fled, The early budding flowers are dead, But others, with their leaves scarce paled, And their flushed bosoms all unveiled, In bloom remain; Printed In "Lyra," as well as in the volume of 1855. The hills are white with ripened rye, The quails from out the meadows fly; The mower's whistling, blithely gay, Makes answer to the milkmaid's lay, In vain--in vain! 'T is one of autumn's lonesome eves, And eddying drifts of withered leaves Are scattered in the woods behind, By the damp fingers of the wind; But hope dies not, And happy maids and youths are seen Together straying on the green, While trembling hand and blushing cheek Tell better far than words can speak, Each other's thought. Winter is come--the homestead low Is whitened by the falling snow; In the warm hearth the cricket cries, And the storm-shaken bough replies; The watch-dog's bay Is answered from the neighboring hill--"'T is very dark, the night is chill," Is by the pale lips faintly said, Of her beside whose dying bed They kneel to pray. Morning is up--her wing of fire Is shivering o'er the village spire, And in the churchyard down below Shining along the mounds of snow Serenely bright; The maiden with the hair so brown, And blue eyes softly drooping down, Her dream, whate'er it was, unknown, Shall lie beneath the cross of stone, Ere close of night. THE CONVICT. 235 THE CONVICT The first of the September eves Sunk its red basement in the sea, And like swart reapers, bearing sheaves, Dim shadows thronged immensity. Then from his ancient kingdom, Night Wooing the tender Twilight, came, And from her tent of soft blue light, Bore her away, a ...
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Add this copy of The Poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary. to cart. $24.03, new condition, Sold by Ingram Customer Returns Center rated 5.0 out of 5 stars, ships from NV, USA, published 2006 by University of Michigan Library.