A Victorian Anthology, 1837-1895: Selections Illustrating the Editor's Critical Review of British Poetry in the Reign of Victoria, Volume 1

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Edmund Clarence Stedman
Houghton Mifflin, 1895 - 744 pages
 

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Page 201 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. ' Forward the Light Brigade ! Charge for the guns !
Page 201 - Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die, Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Page 347 - for Aix is in sight!" "How they'll greet us!" and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits, full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets
Page 174 - I came to Jesus as I was, Weary and worn and sad ; I found in Him a resting-place, And He has made me glad. 2 I heard the voice of Jesus say Behold I freely give The living water; thirsty one, Stoop down and drink, and live.
Page 118 - O men with Sisters dear ! O men with Mothers and Wives! It is not linen you're wearing out, But human creatures' lives! Stitch - stitch - stitch, In poverty, hunger, and dirt, Sewing at once with a double thread, A Shroud as well as a Shirt.
Page 172 - tis not in grief to harm me, While Thy love is left to me : Oh, 'twere not in joy to charm me, Were that joy unmixed with Thee. 3 Take, my soul, thy full salvation ; Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care ; Joy to find in every station Something still to do or bear...
Page 57 - Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home — Lead Thou me on! Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene, — one step enough for me. I was not ever thus, nor pray'd that Thou Shouldst lead me on. I loved to choose and see my path, but now Lead Thou me on!
Page 132 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life ; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Page 27 - A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest; And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.
Page 153 - MAY I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence : live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self. In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge man's search To vaster issues.

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