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قراءة كتاب City Ballads

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‏اللغة: English
City Ballads

City Ballads

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 3

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How we Fought the Fire 87 "Battered and bruised, forever abused, he lay by the moaning sea" 99 "Miss Sunnyhopes she waded out" 108 "Two inland noodles, for our first acquaintance with the sea" 109 "A-floating on her dainty back" 110 "I tried to kick this 'lovely wave'" 110 "Heels over head—all in a bunch!" 111 "We voted that we'd had enough" 111 "To make four hundred dollars clear, an' help the children too" 121 "We come 'thin part of one of it" 123 "They 'put their heads together' in a new an' painful way" 127 "He makes himself a bigger fool than all the fools he makes" 129 The Salvation Army 140 The March of the Children 141 From the Monument 149 "And he stood there, like a colonel, with her trembling on his arm" 159 Chasing the Bicycle 163 "Only a box, secure and strong, rough and wooden, and six feet long" 167 "And carry back, from out our plenteous store, enough to keep himself a fortnight more" 172 "The hungry city children are coming here to-night" 173 "He heard its soft tones through the cottages creep, from fond mothers singing their babies to sleep" 177


CITY BALLADS.

WEALTH.

[From Arthur Selwyn's Note-book.]

Here in The City I ponder,
Through its long pathways I wander.
These are the spires that were gleaming
All through my juvenile dreaming.
This is The Something I heard, far away,
When, at the close of a tired Summer day,
Resting from work on the lap of a lawn,
Gazing to whither The Sun-god had gone,
Leaving behind him his mantles of gold—
This is The Something by which I was told;
"Bend your head, dreamer, and listen—
Come to my splendors that glisten!
Either to triumph they call you,
Or to what worst could befall you!"
This is The Something that thrilled my desires,
When the weird Morning had kindled his fires,
And the gray city of clouds in the east
Lighted its streets as for pageant or feast,
Whisp'ring—my spirit elating—
"Come to me, boy, I am waiting!
Bring me your muscle and spirit and brain—
Here to my glory-strewn, ruin-strewn plain!"


Treading the trough of the furrow,
Digging where life-rootlets burrow,
Blade of the food-harvest swinging,
In the barns toiling and singing,
Breath of a hay-meadow smelling,
Forest-trees loving and felling—
Where'er my

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