![]() The unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful, And fresh as the young earth, ere man had sinned -- |
![]() The unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful, For which the speech of England has no name -- The Prairies. |
![]() In wayward, aimless course to tend, Are eddies of the mighty stream That rolls to its appointed end. |
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![]() And colored with the heaven's own blue. . . . |
![]() The faults to which the young are ever prone; The will is quick to act, the judgment weak. |
![]() Races of living things, glorious in strength, And perish, as the quickening breath of God Fills them, or is withdrawn. |
![]() But midst the gorgeous blooms of May, I passed thee on thy humble stalk. |
![]() Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language. |
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![]() Th' eternal years of God are hers; But Error, wounded, writhes in pain, And dies among his worshippers. |
![]() A shadow for the noontide hour, A shelter from the summer shower, When we plant the apple-tree. |
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![]() In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood? |
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