Jean Ingelow ( 7 of 17 )
And old affront will stir the heart
Through years of rankling pain.
And old affront will stir the heart
Through years of rankling pain.
Her face betokened all things dear and good,
The light of somewhat yet to come was there
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Her face betokened all things dear and good,
The light of somewhat yet to come was there
Asleep, and waiting for the opening day,
When childish thoughts, like flowers would drift away.
The old mayor climbed the belfry tower,
The ringers ran by two, by three;
"Pull, if ye read more
The old mayor climbed the belfry tower,
The ringers ran by two, by three;
"Pull, if ye never pulled before;
Good ringers, pull your best," quoth he.
"Play uppe, play uppe, O Boston bells!
Ply all your changes, all your swells,
Play uppe The Brides of Enderby."
"O fateful flower beside the rill--
The Daffodil, the daffodil!"
"O fateful flower beside the rill--
The Daffodil, the daffodil!"
And bitter waxed the fray;
Brother with brother spake no word
When they met in the way.
And bitter waxed the fray;
Brother with brother spake no word
When they met in the way.
Against her ankles as she trod
The lucky buttercups did nod.
Against her ankles as she trod
The lucky buttercups did nod.
And O the buttercups! that field
O' the cloth of gold, when pennons swam--
Where France set read more
And O the buttercups! that field
O' the cloth of gold, when pennons swam--
Where France set up his lilied shield,
His oriflamb,
And Henry's lion-standard rolled:
What was it to their matchless sheen,
Their million million drops of gold
Among the green!