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And rearing Lindis backward press’d
Shook all her trembling bankes amaine; Then madly at the eygre's breast
Flung uppe her weltering walls again. Then bankes came downe with ruin and routThen beaten foam flew round aboutThen all the mighty floods were out.
So farre, so fast the eygre drave,
The heart had hardly time to beat,
Sobbed in the grasses at oure feet;
Upon the roof we sate that night,
The noise of bells went sweeping by , I mark'd the lofty beacon light
Stream from the church tower, red and highA lurid mark and dread to see; And awesome bells they were to mee, That in the dark rang “ Enderby.”
They rang the sailor lads to guide
From roofe to roofe who fearless rowed;
And yet the ruddy beacon glowed;
And didst thou visit him no more?
Thou didst, thou didst, my daughter deare; The waters laid thee at his doore,
Ere yet the early dawn was clear. Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace, The lifted sun shone on thy face, Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place.
That flow strewed wrecks about the grass,
That ebbe swept out the flocks to sea; A fatal ebbe and flow, alas !
To manye more than myne and mee; But each will mourn his own (she saith), And sweeter woman ne'er drew breath Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.
I shall never hear her more
Cusha! Cusha ! Cusha !" calling,
Cusha! Cusha !” all along
I shall never see her more
Sobbing, throbbing, in its falling
THE splendor falls on castle-walls
And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying ; Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Oh hark! oh hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going ! Oh sweet and far, from cliff and scar,
The horns of Elfiand faintly blowing ! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying ; And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
DEEP on the convent-roof the snows
Are sparkling to the moon :
May my soul follow soon!
Slant down the snowy sward,
That lead me to my Lord :
As are the frosty skies,
That in my bosom lies.
As these white robes are soiled and dark,
To yonder shining ground;
To yonder argent round;
My spirit before Thee;
To that I hope to be,
Break up the heav
ens, O Lord !
and far, Thro' all
yon starlight keen, Draw me, Thy
bride, a glitter
ing star, In raiment white
He lifts me to the
golden doors; The flashes come
All heaven bursts
floors, “ HE LIFTS ME TO THE GOLDEN DOORS."
lights below, And deepens on and up! the gates
Roll back, and far within
To make me pure of sin.
One sabbath deep and wide-
The Bridegroom with his bride!