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bermione

BARRY CORNWALL

Thou hast beauty bright and fair,
Manner noble, aspect free,
Eyes that are untouched by care:
What then, do we ask of thee?
Hermione, Hermione?

Thou hast reason quick and strong,
Wit that envious men admire,

And a voice, itself a song!

What then can we still desire?
Hermione, Hermione?

Something thou dost want, O queen!
(As the gold doth ask alloy):
Tears amid thy laughter seen,
Pity mingling with thy joy.
This is all we ask from thee,
Hermione, Hermione!

Tbose Evening Bells

THOMAS MOORE

Those evening bells! those evening bells. How many a tale their music tells,

Of youth, and home, and that sweet time When last I heard their soothing chime!

Those joyous hours are passed away;
And many a heart that once was gay,
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells.

And so 'twill be when I am gone·
That tuneful peal will still ring on;
While other bards shall walk these dells,
And sing your praise, sweet evening bells.

The Two Oceans

JOHN STERLING

Two seas, amid the night,

In the moonshine roll and sparkle Now spread in the silver light,

Now sadden, and wail, and darkle.

One has a billowy motion,

And from land to land it gleams;

The other is sleep's wide ocean,

And its glimmering waves are dreams.

The one with murmur and roar,

Bears fleets around coast and islet;

The other, without a shore,

Ne'er knew the track of a pilot.

The Wind and Stream

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT

A brook came stealing from the ground;
You scarcely saw its silvery gleam
Among the herbs that hung around

The borders of that winding stream,
The pretty stream, the placid stream,
The softly gliding, bashful stream.

A breeze came wandering from the sky,
Light as the whispers of a dream;
He put the o'erhanging grasses by,

And softly stooped to kiss the stream,
The pretty stream, the flattered stream,
The shy, yet unreluctant stream.

The water, as the wind passed o'er,
Shot upward many a glancing beam,
Dimpled and quivered more and more,
And tripped along, a livelier stream,
The flattered stream, the simpering stream,
The fond, delighted, silly stream.

Away the airy wanderer flew

To where the fields with blossoms teem, To sparkling springs and rivers blue, And left alone that little stream,

The Wind and Stream

The flattered stream, the cheated stream, The sad, forsaken, lonely stream.

That careless wind came never back;
He wanders yet the fields, I deem,
But, on its melancholy track,

Complaining went that little stream, The cheated stream, the hopeless stream, The ever-murmuring, mourning stream.

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