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a pity a very great pity one should be eleven
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i knew about heaven but this was the country of this light blossom and piping and flashing of wings not at all
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'the ways will be long but the days will be long ' quoth the river 'to me a long liver long long ' quoth the river the river
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shall i cross by the ferry to-morrow and come in my white to that little low church and will oliver meet me anon
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schoolmaster well sir we thought this end o' the room was dark
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child i'm helping father but father why d'you take such pains
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mrs smith ay you may say that
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mrs t but i'm right glad you came it pleases them
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enter vicar wife various friends with violins and a flute they come to a piano and one begins softly to tune his violin while the vicar speaks
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mrs t ay how they clap him
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well may he not an organ pipe they blow on sunday in the church is half so sweet but he's a hard man
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'if love ' said he 'won't make a man of you why nothing will 'tis mainly that love's for
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she honey bide the time's awry bide awhile let be
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he take my wage then lay it by till 't come back with thee
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duet but how much longer and longer and longer o how much longer shall the waiting last
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coming not she there comes her sweetheart though
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mrs j well very well but what of fiddler sam
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an honest man and ever pays his score born in the parish old blind as a bat and strangers sing before him 't is a shame
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and i at our trysting stone whereto i came down alone was fain o' the wind's wild moan
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laurie laurie lad make not wail with a wiser lass ye'll sure prevail for ye sing like a woodland nightingale
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and there's no sense in it under the sun for of three that woo i can take but one so what's to be done what's to be done
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there's no sense in it under the sun and of three that woo i can take but one
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nay but take me home to the churning mill when cherry boughs white on yon mounting hill hang over the tufts o' the daffodil
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wife done nothing love
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either the thing has done itself or they must undo did they call for fiddler sam
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they know the woods their groaning noises weird they climb in trees that overhang the slow deep mill-stream loved and feared
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behold a ship her wide yards score the sky she sails a steel-blue sea
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'father dear father bid us now god-speed we cannot choose but sail it thus befell 'mother dear mother ' 'nay 't is all decreed
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so on the mount christ's chosen three unware that glory it did shroud feared when they entered into the cloud
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how guileless sweet by gift divine how beautiful dear child was thine spared all their grief of thee bereaven
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winner who had not greatly striven hurts of sin shall not thee soil carking care thy beauty spoil
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or of the morrow diffident unconscious beautiful she stood calm in young stainless maidenhood
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the mystery of the world whose name is life all-conquering wends and works for aye with rest and cold at strife
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yet such for aye divided from us are as other galaxies that seem no more than a little golden millet-seed afar
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divided swarming down some flat lee shore then risen while all the air that takes no word tingles and trembles as with cries not heard
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though time be as a moon upon the wane who walk with faith far up the azure lift oft hear her talk of lights to wax again
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the woman before her lord shall glory fling the rolls aside time raze out triumphs past
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such as can see why should they doubt the childhood of a race
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i saw once in that earth primeval once a face a little face that yet i dream upon
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and i could walk and went led by the hand through a long mead at morn bathed in a ravishing excess of light
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awhile our feeding hearts all satisfied took in the blue of one another's eyes two dimpled creatures rose-lipped innocent
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'you're sure it was the queen 'of course a crown was on her and a spangly purple gown
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here they were beggar children in the street and the dove said they had the prettiest things and wore their best frocks every day
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'o yes and lined with white like swallow wings so soft so very light fluttering about
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oft as in a dream i see full fain the bell-tower beautiful that i love well a seemly cluster with her churches twain
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ay gone the soft deceptive echoes roll away and faint into remoteness
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or thus of old men feigned and then did fear then straight crowd forth the great ones of the sky in flashing flame at strife to reach more near
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wait and desire it life waits not free there to good to evil thy right perilous all shall be fair and yet it is not fair
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is it the many fall'n shall lift the land the race the age nay 't is the few that stand
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i sought to look as in the light of one returned 'will this be strange to me that day
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oh let her speak with her best eloquence to me but not her first and her right rare can equal what i may not take from hence
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and here was little ledbury quaint withal the forest felled her lair and sheltering place she long time left in age pathetical
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'great oaks' methought as i drew near to gaze 'were but of small account when these came down drawn rough-hewn in to serve the tree-girt town
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she leaned against the pillar and below three almost babes her care she watched the while with downcast lashes and a musing smile
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her cheeks like winter apples red of hue her glance aside to whom her speech to me
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farewell good dame lost oh my lady lost
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lost lost and lost whenas the cross road flee up tumbled hills on each for eyes attent a carriage creepeth
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thus with myself i spoke a rough brick floor made the place homely i would rest me there
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hath the most high of all his host afar one most supremely beautiful one best dearest of all the flock one favourite star
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his image given in part the children know they love one first and best it may be so
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there are on fortune's errant foot can steal can guide her blindfold in at their own doors or dance elate upon her slippery wheel
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courage there are 'gainst hope can still advance dowered with a sane a wise extravagance
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a long-waking aye waking till a word come from her coral mouth to be the true sum of all good heart wanted ear hath heard
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yet if alas might love thy dolour be dream dear heart dear and do not dream of me
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store make in loving make o make mine art more yet i ask no ask no wished goal
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that was the end 'slow solemn growth of light come what come will remains to me this night
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it was the end with dew ordained to melt how easily was learned how all too soon not there not thereabout such maiden dwelt
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unhappy love and i of that great host unhappy love who cry unhappy most
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then saw her demon blush vesuvius try then evil ghosts white from the awful prime thrust up sharp peaks to tear the tender sky
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the stroke of noon the bell-bird yes and no
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a footstep near i turned past likelihood past hope before me on the bridge she stood
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on moorish walls yet hung long dust each hand the keys but not the might to use remain is there such house in some blest land for me
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a country conquered oft and long before of generations aye ordained to win if mine the power i will unlock the door
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what did the crescent wane yet man is more and love achieves because to heaven akin
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o life to hear again that wandering bell and hear it at thy feet estelle estelle
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up to far osteroe and suderoe the deep sea-floor lies strewn with spanish wrecks o'er minted gold the fair-haired fishers go
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in earlier days great carthage suffered bale and reckless hands tore down the temple veil and omar burned the alexandrian rolls
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'let me alone mine enemy let me alone never a christian bell that dire thick gloom to hallow or guide him shelterless succourless thrust from his own
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on the wall his golden shield dinted deep in battle field when the host o' the khalif fled
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gold to gold long sunbeams flit upward tremble and break on it
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comes a day for glory famed tidings brought the enemy shamed fallen now is peace proclaimed
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the foe upon them the foe afore and behind them they fly with death at their heels fierce sun-rays blind them riderless steeds affrighted tread down their ranks amain
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now the valley mist doth break shifting sparkles edge the lake love lord master wake o wake
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ay it is not thrust o' a spear scorn of infidel eyes austere but mine own fear is to fear
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'love ' she sigheth 'thou didst not well listening to the white-witch fell leaving her doth thee advance
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fifty candles burn at his head and burn at his feet a crown and royal apparel upon him lorn and lowly and the cold hands stiff as horn by their cold palms meet
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two days dead is he dead nay nay but is he living
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the weary monks have ended their chantings manifold the great door swings behind them night winds entrance giving the candles flare and drip on him warm and he so cold
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the pale queen's honour a low laugh scathing and sereing a mumbling as made by the dead in the tombs ye wot
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braveth the dead this queen 'hear it whoso hath hearing i vowed by my love cold king but i loved thee not
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then he heareth accents bland seeth the queen's ring on his hand and he riseth calmed withal
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thou dost take thy good things first then thou art cast into the worst first the glory then the strife
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as one reasoning with a child all his speech): 'my wife my fair
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and his hand on her brown hair trembles 'lady dost indeed weigh the meaning of thy rede
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soh a pillar misty and grey 't is the white-witch in the way
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shelter at the last a roof wrought of ling (in their behoof foresters that drive the deer
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ay and ere the twilight fall gather forest berries small and nuts down beaten for a meal
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list about and around us wondrous sweet noises laughter of little children and maids that dreaming be
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'speak dear child dear ' quoth the queen 'and mine own little son 'father ' the small thing murmurs then all is ended he starts from that passion of peace ay the dream is done
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till a tower shall on thee frown him that holds it show this ring so farewell my lord the king
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