Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub
[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]
[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

MY PORTRAIT

VOLK's Bronze Cast from Life-Mask. By permission of the CENTURY Co.
Walt Whitman

931

Portrait of Author. After Engraving by W. J. LINTON.

THE V-A-8-E

THE BRYANT VASE.

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors]

Designed by JAMES H. WHITEHOUSE, of TIFFANY & Co.,
N. Y., the makers; presented to WM. CULLEN BRYANT, by popular subscrip-
tion, in June, 1876, commemorating his eightieth birthday in 1874. Now in the
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City.

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

974

975

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

The Poct.

Thow who wouldst wear the Grame

Of Purt midst thy brethren of omankind, And clothe, in words of flame, Thoughts that shall live within the general munds Deem not the framing of a deathless lay The pastime of a drowdy Summer day.

But gasher all thy Rowens,

[ocr errors]

And wreak them on the verse that thou dost weave, And in thy lonely hours.

At Silent morning or at wakeful eve

While the teaton Current tingles throughthy veins, Set forth the burning workd in fluent strand.

No smooth array of phrase,
Artfully sought and ordered though it be,
Which the cold rhymer lagel

Upon the page with languid industry,
Can wake the listless pulse to livelier speed,
Or fill, with seedden tears, the eyes that reads

The secret wouldst thou know
To touch the heart or fire the blood at will/
Let thine eyes derflow

Let thy lips quiverwitte the passionate thrill,
Seize the great thought ere yet its power be past,
And bind in words, the fleet emotion fast

Then, should thy verse appear Halting and harsh and all unaptly wrought, Touch the crude line with fear, Save in the moment of impassioned thoughts Then summon back the original glar and mend The Strain with Expture that arch fire was penned

Yet let no empty gust

Of passion find an utterance in thy lay:

A beads that whirls the dast

Along the howling Street and died away;
Bur feelings of calm power and mighty sweep,
Like currents
& journeying through the windless deep.

[graphic][subsumed]

MR. BRYANT'S LIBRARY AT CEDARMERE.

Deem not the framing of a deathless lay
The pastime of a drowsy Summer Are.

« VorigeDoorgaan »