The Poetical Works of Eliza Cook

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F. Warne and Company, 1870 - 624 頁
 

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第 31 頁 - I've treasured it long as a sainted prize, I've bedewed it with tears, and embalmed it with sighs; "Pis bound by a thousand bands to my heart ; Not a tie will break, not a link will start. Would ye learn the spell ? — a mother sat there, And a sacred thing is that old arm-chair.
第 31 頁 - She told me shame would never betide, With truth for my creed and God for my guide ; She taught me to lisp my earliest prayer ; As I knelt beside that old arm-chair.
第 32 頁 - I almost worshipped her when she smiled, And turned from her Bible to bless her child. Years rolled on, but the last one sped — My idol was shattered, my earth-star fled ; I learnt how much the heart can bear When I saw her die in that old arm-chair.
第 166 頁 - He fought, but not with love of strife ; he struck but to defend ; And ere he turned a people's foe, he sought to be a friend. He strove to keep his country's right by reason's gentle word, And sighed when fell injustice threw the challenge — sword to sword.
第 612 頁 - HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS. HOME for the Holidays, here we go; Bless me, the train is exceedingly slow! Pray, Mr. Engineer, get up your steam, And let us be off, with a puff and a scream! We have two long hours to travel, you say; Come, Mr. Engineer, gallop away! Two hours more ! why, the sun will be down, Before we reach dear old London town, And then, what a number of fathers and mothers, And uncles and aunts, and sisters...
第 610 頁 - Tis true he was monarch, and wore a crown, But his heart was beginning to sink. For he had been trying to do a great deed, To make his people glad ; He had tried and tried, but could not succeed, And so he became quite sad.
第 43 頁 - The team-horses jolted, the roadster played pranks ; So Dobbin alone had her faith and her thanks. We fun-loving urchins would group by his side ; We might fearlessly mount him, and daringly ride : We might creep through his legs, we might plait his long tail ; But his temper and patience were ne'er known to fail. We would brush his bright hide till 'twas free from a speck ; We kissed his brown muzzle, and hugged his thick neck ; Oh ! we prized him like life, and a heart-breaking sob Ever burst when...
第 166 頁 - Caesar, great and brave; but stain was on his wreath: He lived the heartless conqueror, and died the tyrant's death. France had its eagle; but his wings, though lofty they might soar, Were spread in false ambition's 'flight, and dipped in murder's gore. Those hero-gods, whose mighty sway would fain have chained...
第 611 頁 - that foolish thing Will strive no more to climb; When it toils so hard to reach and cling, And tumbles every time." But up the insect went once more; Ah me! 'tis an anxious minute; He's only a foot from his cobweb door. Oh, say, will he lose or win it? Steadily, steadily, inch by inch, Higher and higher he got; And a bold little run at the very last pinch Put him into his native cot.

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