First Lines of Hannah Flagg Gould
A cloud, that had hung like a veil o'er the sun,A grand coronation is near!A leaf! a leaf! it has been tornA voice from Mount Auburn! a voice! -- and it said,Alas! alas! a silly Pink,Am I dreaming? what is this?Before we go, I've a word to sayCome, mariner, down in the deep with me,Come, thou dear, thou hallowed treasure,Dear is our Liberty,Ever beaming, still I hang,Flying a kite! at a childish play!Here's the last food your poor mother can bring!He's gone to his home! Like a well-ripened sheaf,How well I remember the hovel, that stoodI am feeble, pale and weary,I could not lift my voice to sing,I dreamed and 't was a lovely, blessed dream,I knew a little heedless boy,I love thee, pretty nurslingI stood in the halls where wealth and stateIf ever I venture again on the deep,Imperial beauty! fair, unrivalled one!It is wandering down through pathless air,King George sat high on his family throne,Mariners! mariners, what will ye do?Mary, a beautiful, artless child,Mary, thy violets are brightMother, I have found a tearMy boy, as gently on my breast,Mysterious tie by the Hand above,Now, if I fall, will it be my lotO, why do I hold thee, my fair, only rose,Oh! sister, he is so swift and tall,Peace keeps the place where we spring up and bloom.Poor Dying Lamp! thou now art low and pale;Robin, robin, sing to me,Saw ye the mourner recliningSay, may a stranger's trembling hand presumeSee the sun at close of day,She braided a wreath for her silken hair,She did not know when she gave thee me,She had not breathed this world's inclement airShe loved; but her bosom had buried the dart;Strength of my strength! around me, lest I sink,'T was not the robe of state,The deep-toned bell peals long and lowThe frost looked forth one still, clear night,The struggle is over! The storm-cloud at lastThe sun, like a hero, whose chariot rolledThere's a sad loneliness about my heart, --There's blood on the laurel that wreathes his brow,There's many a one who oft has heardThey come from the grave to attest to the storyThey say the blessed Spring is here,They've caught my little brother,Thou god of my worship, my early devotionValencia's streets are thronged. With fearful stateViolet, violet, sparkling with dew,We come! we come! and ye feel our might,We watch for the light of the morn to breakWe would not check the starting tear,What next -- what next, thou changeful thing,Who is thy neighbour! -- see him stand,Who will stand, when I shall pillowWild are the winds! the heavens are dark!With a hoary head,With cherub smile, the prattling boy,Ye who rend my bed of earth,Ye, who look with wondering eye,Young David was a ruddy lad