Poems, an offering to Lancashire [ed. by I. Craig-Knox].

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E. Faithfull, Victoria Press, 1863 - English poetry - 62 pages
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Page 17 - I HAVE been here before, But when or how I cannot tell : I know the grass beyond the door, The sweet keen smell, The sighing sound, the lights around the shore. You have been mine before, — How long ago I may not know : But just when at that swallow's soar Your neck turned so, Some veil did fall, — I knew it all of yore.
Page 54 - She now compounds for winning ways By morals of the sternest, Methinks the lays of nowadays Are painfully in earnest. When Wisdom halts, I humbly try To make the most of Folly: If Pallas be unwilling, I Prefer to flirt with Polly; To quit the goddess for the maid Seems low in lofty musers; But Pallas is a lofty jade — And beggars can't be choosers. I do not wish to see the slaves Of party, stirring passion, Or psalms quite superseding staves, Or piety "the fashion.
Page 1 - You who sat to see us starve," one shrieking woman said: "Sit on your throne and roast with your crown upon your head." Nay, this thing will I do, while my mother tarrieth, I will take my fine spun gold, but not to sew therewith, I will take my gold and gems, and rainbow fan and wreath; With a ransom in my lap, a king's ransom in my hand, I will go down to this people, will stand face to face, will stand Where they curse king, queen, and princess of this cursed land. They shall take all to buy them...

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