Poems: 2nd seriesRoberts Brothers, 1891 - 230 pagina's |
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
afternoon angels anguish bells bird blue bobolink bodice breath butterfly cautious chanticleer cochineal creature CRICKET crumb daffodil daisies dare dead Death docile drop ecstasy emerald Emily Dickinson everywhere eyes face fair fear feet fellow fingers flower frigate frost gentian ghost gone grace grass harebell hear heart heaven hills hurried immortality JUGGLER OF DAY knock Lest lisp little figure look lost MABEL LOOMIS TODD mechlin morning never noon orchards oriole ourself pass pearl Playmates poems prayer purple quivering road ROBERTS BROTHERS robin rose seraph settled regions wild silver sing skies slow smile snow softly soul sparrow spices squirrel stare stars summer sunrise sunset sweet T. W. HIGGINSON tardy tell thee Thine thing thought timid touch tree tune Tyrian UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN Unto verses Wending white heat Wild nights wind window woods XXIII
Populaire passages
Pagina 39 - I like to see it lap the Miles And lick the Valleys up And stop to feed itself at Tanks And then - prodigious step Around a Pile of Mountains And supercilious peer In Shanties - by the sides of Roads And then a Quarry pare To fit its...
Pagina 27 - Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.
Pagina 214 - One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted One need not be a House The Brain has Corridors - surpassing Material Place Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting External Ghost Than its interior Confronting That Cooler Host.
Pagina 222 - It was not Death, for I stood up, And all the Dead, lie down It was not Night, for all the Bells Put out their Tongues, for Noon. It was not Frost, for on my Flesh > I felt Siroccos - crawl Nor Fire - for just my marble feet Could keep a Chancel, cool And yet, it tasted, like them all, The Figures I have seen...
Pagina 113 - Has it feathers like a bird? Is it brought from famous countries Of which I have never heard? Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor! Oh, some wise man from the skies! Please to tell a little pilgrim Where the place called morning lies!
Pagina 125 - To hear an Oriole sing May be a common thing — Or only a divine. It is not of the Bird Who sings the same, unheard, As unto Crowd — The Fashion of the Ear Attireth that it hear In Dun, or fair — So whether it be Rune, Or whether it be none Is of within. The "Tune is in the Tree — " The Skeptic — showeth me — "No Sir! In Thee!
Pagina 89 - When that which is and that which was Apart, intrinsic, stand, And this brief tragedy of flesh Is shifted like a sand ; When figures show their royal front And mists are carved away, — Behold the atom I preferred To all the lists of clay ! II.
Pagina 94 - Going to him! Happy letter! Tell him — Tell him the page I didn't write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun out.
Pagina 140 - A BIRD came down the walk : •^ He did not know I saw ; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw. And then he drank a dew From a convenient grass, And then hopped sidewise to the wall To let a beetle pass. He glanced with rapid eyes That hurried all...
Pagina 168 - As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away — Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy — A Quietness distilled As Twilight long begun, Or Nature spending with herself Sequestered Afternoon — The Dusk drew earlier in — The Morning foreign shone — A courteous, yet harrowing Grace, As Guest, that would be gone — And thus, without a Wing Or service of a Keel Our summer made her light escape Into the Beautiful.