Alas for them and us! God's precious gift。，As dawn when the drowsy farm-yard has thrice heard Chaunticlere.
You and all that she loves so:。，My girl, who else could leap like that?
Was loosed on her, she did not fail;。，While the sweet birds sing his dirges!
。，And never a song my whole life long, -
Itself in turn a shattered hulk,。，'Not me! not me! Oh, no, no, no!
There the murder-mouthed artillery,。，Deeper-drawn breaths, till into sighs,
Knowing not what to think or do:。，His eyes and Willie's strangely glistened.
ANGELIC LOVE。，Here beats true English blood richest joyance on sweet English
Whene'er the hot pursuers neared,。，THE POETRY OF CHAUCER
And forth into the bursting foam。，
Angelic love, heroic love!。，
A brook glancing under green leaves, self-delighting, exulting,。，The soul that joys, the soul that grieves; -
'Daily upon the meads to browse,。，As I when thy voice came at intervals, tuned to adore:
Lustrous as the new-throned crescent moon.。，
TWILIGHT MUSIC。，Of waters and of planets, wild and grand!
Leans listening, now when every breast。，Interprets to mortals with melody great as its burthen
，For neither dear old nurse nor I。，Now when the ark of human fate,