The Everlasting Mercy ; And, The Widow in the Bye Street

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Macmillan, 1912 - Poetry - 230 pages

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Page 217 - Dryden's Poetical Works. Edited, with a Memoir, Revised Text, and Notes, by WD CHRISTIE, MA, of Trinity College, Cambridge, pp. Ixxxvii., 662.
Page 217 - Morte d'Arthur.— SIR THOMAS MALORY'S BOOK OF KING ARTHUR AND OF HIS NOBLE KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE. The original Edition of CAXTON, revised for Modern Use. With an Introduction by Sir EDWARD STRACHEY, Bart. pp. xxxvii., 509. "It is with perfect confidence that we recommend this edition of the old romance to every class of readers.
Page 59 - I'd been, how dumb, how blind. The station brook, to my new eyes, Was babbling out of Paradise, The waters rushing from the rain Were singing Christ has risen again.
Page 23 - He give me an orange once when little, And he who gives a child a treat Makes joy-bells ring in Heaven's street, And he who gives a child a home Builds palaces in Kingdom come, And she who gives a baby birth Brings Saviour Christ again to Earth...
Page 66 - O Christ who holds the open gate, O Christ who drives the furrow straight, O Christ, the plough, O Christ, the laughter Of holy white birds flying after, Lo, all my heart's field red and torn, And Thou wilt bring the young green corn The young green corn divinely springing, The young green corn for ever singing; And when the field is fresh and fair Thy blessed feet shall glitter there. And we will walk the weeded field, And tell the golden harvest's yield, The corn that makes the holy bread By which...
Page 39 - Lord, give to men who are old and rougher The things that little children suffer, And let keep bright and undefiled The young years of the little child. I pat his head at edge of street And gi'm my second pear to eat. Right under lamp, I pat his head, "I'll stay till mother come," I said, And stay I did, and joked and talked, And shoppers wondered as they walked.
Page 201 - God dropped a spark down into everyone, And if we find and fan it to a blaze It'll spring up and glow like — like the sun, And light the wandering out of stony ways. God warms His hands at man's heart when he prays. And light of prayer is spreading heart to heart; It'll light all where now it lights a part.
Page 22 - The men who don't know to the root The joy of being swift of foot, Have never known divine and fresh The glory of the gift of flesh, Nor felt the feet exult, nor gone Along a dim road, on and on, Knowing again the bursting glows, The mating hare in April knows, Who tingles to the pads with mirth At being the swiftest thing on earth.
Page 73 - Down Bye Street, in a little Shropshire town, There lived a widow with her only son : She had no wealth nor title to renown, Nor any joyous hours, never one. She rose from ragged mattress before sun And stitched all day until her eyes were red, And had to stitch, because her man was dead. Sometimes she fell asleep, she stitched so hard, Letting the linen fall upon the floor; And hungry cats would steal in from the yard, And mangy chickens pecked about the door, Craning their necks so ragged and so...

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