'TWAS comfort in her dying room
'TWAS comfort in her dying room / To hear the living clock,
'TWAS comfort in her dying room / To hear the living clock,
He ate and drank the precious words, / His spirit grew robust;
There is no frigate like a book / To take us lands away,
I'll tell you how the sun rose, -- / A ribbon at a time.
A LITTLE madness in the Spring / Is wholesome even for the King,
A PROMPT, executive Bird is the Jay, / Bold as a Bailiff's hymn,
A sepal, petal, and a thorn / Upon a common summer's morn,
Sweet is the swamp with its secrets, / Until we meet a snake;
An awful tempest mashed the air, / The clouds were gaunt and few;
The wind begun to rock the grass / With threatening tunes and low, --
A word is dead / When it is said,
A death-blow is a life-blow to some / Who, till they died, did not alive become;
A dew sufficed itself / And satisfied a leaf,
A light exists in spring / Not present on the year
A poor torn heart, a tattered heart, / That sat it down to rest,
A toad can die of light! / Death is the common right
AH, Teneriffe! / Retreating Mountain!
ALL circumstances are the frame / In which His Face is set,
Our lives are Swiss, -- / So still, so cool,
AMBITION cannot find him, / Affection doesn't know