text
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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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