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the tribute of this verse.
| 2 |
take the warm welcome of new friends with thee,
| 1 |
augmented, sweet, a hundred fold
| 1 |
in some lady's gyahden.
| 2 |
and bow to dread inquisitor and worship lords of dust;
| 0 |
its temples and its palaces did seem
| 2 |
but i, or any demmercrat, feels comf'table to stan' on,
| 2 |
miles off, three dangerous miles, is home;
| 0 |
every day a rich reward will give;
| 1 |
else, suffer’d, it will set the heart on fire,
| 0 |
who, never looking forward, are indeed
| 2 |
gay little heart!
| 1 |
while from his hand i squeeze the golden prize,
| 2 |
among the sources of thy glorious streams,
| 1 |
as when i read in god's own holy book.
| 2 |
and while before me, spotted with white sails,
| 2 |
yet that whip's name too noble
| 2 |
i'm comin', ed.
| 2 |
what gods, what madness, hither steer’d your course?
| 0 |
and raised their eyes above,
| 2 |
it spoils me for the smiling of the rest’—
| 1 |
yearns to its source. the spirit thirsts for god,
| 2 |
that wisdom's lips seemed borrowing friendship's heart.
| 1 |
the oil upon the puddles dries
| 2 |
snows hide his shoulders; from beneath his chin
| 2 |
when the glance hast lost its beam;
| 0 |
best gems of nature's cabinet,
| 1 |
as round some giant hive, all day and night,
| 2 |
whether they met on festal eve, in field,
| 2 |
who cometh over the hills,
| 2 |
in the shadow of the shores; as dead leaves wake,
| 0 |
touch it: the marble eyelids are not wet--
| 2 |
oh, say, is he, the eternal, there?
| 2 |
the blessed memory of thy worth
| 1 |
from his own tripod, and his holy tree;
| 2 |
i sate down beneath the beech
| 2 |
a million torches lighted by thy hand
| 1 |
thy sleep makes ridiculous.
| 0 |
whose potent unity and concentric force
| 1 |
of peace? it is thy father's name. thy life
| 2 |
now, if thou art a poet, tell me not
| 2 |
who stood in expectation by,
| 2 |
mine eyes were of their madness half beguiled,
| 0 |
jes heavy 'nough to turn a scale thet's doubtfle the wrong way,
| 2 |
you sha' n't roll yo' eyes at me.
| 0 |
case dey nevah tech a drouf.
| 2 |
it will be spring again.
| 2 |
mine are calm and tranquil days,
| 1 |
sang as little children sing;
| 2 |
the things it wrought on; i believe
| 2 |
from flight, seditious angel, to receave
| 0 |
what once has been and ne'er shall be again,
| 2 |
sky, marsh, my soul, and yonder sail.
| 2 |
thy merited reward, the first assay
| 1 |
except in france; and when it’s found in france,
| 2 |
for the greek must ask elsewhere.
| 2 |
whose anvil's even din
| 2 |
that truthful teacup, our dictator, knows;
| 2 |
when hills are free from snow
| 2 |
uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.
| 1 |
endu'd with human voice and human sense,
| 2 |
whatever anybody had
| 2 |
is passed, and our aereal speed suspended.
| 2 |
afar the melancholy thunder moaned,
| 0 |
their hate, and selfishness, and pride!
| 0 |
i would don my hose of homespun gray,
| 2 |
an hundred silken cords are set
| 2 |
i have lost the urban ways.
| 2 |
and sorrowful to-day, thy children set
| 0 |
or by some cabin door, a bush
| 2 |
was freedom's home or glory's grave!
| 3 |
save for a cry that echoes shrill
| 0 |
with its close-curling gold, and love revived.
| 1 |
a golden helm his front and head surrounds
| 2 |
but, through the war-cloud, pray to thee
| 3 |
swing, like a ship at anchor, roun' my base,
| 2 |
for peace or rest too well he saw
| 2 |
from her stately place on high.
| 1 |
that passed with you and me.--
| 2 |
sweet hope!
| 1 |
for high, and yet more high, the murmurs swell
| 2 |
let those whom nature hath not made for store,
| 2 |
said, `pass not, so cold, these manifold
| 2 |
the adulterate death of lucrece and her groom.
| 0 |
whilst this....
| 2 |
"the snow that husheth all,
| 2 |
then pausing, thus his prophecy renews:
| 2 |
to accomplish suicide.
| 0 |
early or late? or shall that commonwealth
| 2 |
he plays a little, sings a song,
| 2 |
each by his fiery torture howl and rave,
| 0 |
and twitter, and again are still.
| 2 |
my daily thoughts perpetual converse held
| 2 |
yon trunk had thrice a hundred rings,
| 2 |
is lovely round; a beautiful river there
| 1 |
take heed (dear heart) of this large privilege,
| 1 |
at once comes tumbling down the rocky wall;
| 0 |
sat mournfully guarding their corpses there,
| 0 |
low in supplication bending.
| 2 |
twas when you stole my maidenhead;
| 0 |
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