File:The monitions of the unseen, and poems of love and childhood (1871) (14581832779).jpg

Identifier: monitionsofunsee00inge (find matches)
Title: The monitions of the unseen, and poems of love and childhood
Year: 1871 (1870s)
Authors: Ingelow, Jean, 1820-1897
Subjects:
Publisher: Boston, Roberts brothers
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
. I wept in the night as the desolate weep(Night is the time for the old to die), Cometh my daughter? the drifts are deep,Across the cold hollows how white they lie. I sought her afar through the spectral trees(Night is the time when the old must die). The fells were all muffled, the floods did freeze.And a wrathful moon hung red in the sky. A WINTER SONG. 51 By night I found her where pent waves steal(Night is the time when the old should die), But she lay stiff by the locked mill-wheel, And the old stars lived in their homes on hic^h. 52 BINDING SHEAVES. T TARK ! a lover binding sheaves To his maiden sings,Flutter, flutter go the leaves. Larks drop their wings.Little brooks for all their mirth Are not blythe as he. Give me v^hat the love is w^orth That I give thee. • Speech that cannot be forborne Tells the story through :I sowed my love in with the corn, And they both grew.Count the world full wide of girth, And hived honey sweet,But count the love of more worth Laid at thy feet.
Text Appearing After Image:
Hark ! a lover binding sheaves To his maiden sings ;Flutter, flutter go the leaves, Larks drop their wings. BINDING SHEAVES. 53 Moneys worth is house and land, Velvet coat and vest.Works w^orth Is bread in hand, Ay, and sweet rest.Wilt thou learn what love is worth ? Ah ! she sits above,Sighing, Weigh me not with earth, Loves worth is love. 54 WORK. T IKE coral insects multitudinous The minutes are whereof our life is made. They build it up as in the deeps blue shadeIt grows, it comes to light, and then, and thusFor both there is an end. The populous Sea-blossoms close, our minutes that have paid Lifes debt of work are spent; the work is laidBefore our feet that shall come after us.We may not stay to watch if it will speed. The bard if on some luters string his songLive sweetly yet; the hero if his starDoth shine. Work is its own best earthly meed, Else have we none more than the sea-born thronofWho wrousfht those marvellous isles that bloom afar. 55 WISHING. When I reflect how little

Note About Images