Golden Leaves from the American PoetsHurst & Company, pref., 1864 - 398 pagina's |
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Pagina 8
... blessed truth . This theame is out of date , the peacefull hours When castles needed not , but pleasant bowers . Not ink , but bloud and tears now serve the turn To draw the figure of New England's urne . New England's hour of passion ...
... blessed truth . This theame is out of date , the peacefull hours When castles needed not , but pleasant bowers . Not ink , but bloud and tears now serve the turn To draw the figure of New England's urne . New England's hour of passion ...
Pagina 12
... bless Learned artists fix the forms of dress , And sit in consultation grave On folded skirt , or straitened sleeve , The coxcomb trips with sprightly haste , In all the flush of modern taste ; Oft turning , if the day be fair , To view ...
... bless Learned artists fix the forms of dress , And sit in consultation grave On folded skirt , or straitened sleeve , The coxcomb trips with sprightly haste , In all the flush of modern taste ; Oft turning , if the day be fair , To view ...
Pagina 26
... bless , be blest , And tune to harmony the common breast ; To cheer with mild good - humour's sprightly ray And smooth life's passage o'er its thorny way ; To circle round the hospitable board , And taste each good our generous climes ...
... bless , be blest , And tune to harmony the common breast ; To cheer with mild good - humour's sprightly ray And smooth life's passage o'er its thorny way ; To circle round the hospitable board , And taste each good our generous climes ...
Pagina 28
... bless the toil . Your own the produce , and your own the soil . There , free from envy , cankering care , and strife , Flow the calm pleasures of domestic life ; There mutual friendship soothes each placid breast : Blest in themselves ...
... bless the toil . Your own the produce , and your own the soil . There , free from envy , cankering care , and strife , Flow the calm pleasures of domestic life ; There mutual friendship soothes each placid breast : Blest in themselves ...
Pagina 65
... bless thy ray How oft thy rising o'er the hamlet green , Signal of rest , and social converse sweet , Beneath some patriarchal tree , has cheered The peasant's heart , and drawn his benison ! Pride of the West ! beneath thy placid light ...
... bless thy ray How oft thy rising o'er the hamlet green , Signal of rest , and social converse sweet , Beneath some patriarchal tree , has cheered The peasant's heart , and drawn his benison ! Pride of the West ! beneath thy placid light ...
Inhoudsopgave
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Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
ANNABEL Lee beauty bells beneath bird bless blest blood blue bosom brave breast breath breeze bright brow burning charms cloud cold courser dark dead death deep dream earth fair fairy falchion fire flame floating flowers gaze gleam glorious glory glow golden grave green hand hast Hasty Pudding hath heart heaven HELON hills holy hour land leaves light lips living lonely look lyre maize moon morning never Nevermore night nursling o'er old oaken bucket pale passed prayer Quoth the Raven rapture rock roll round shade shadow Shammar shine shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star-spangled banner stars storm stream sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou art thought throne toil towers tread tree Twas twill voice water-sprites wave WHIP-POOR-WILL wild wind wing witch-hazel youth
Populaire passages
Pagina 84 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware.
Pagina 292 - Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow: You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow. Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing floor.
Pagina 249 - But the Raven still beguiling All my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in Front of bird and bust and door ; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking What this ominous bird of yore — What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, Gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking
Pagina 86 - All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Pagina 84 - Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart, Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around — Earth, and her waters, and the depths of air — Comes a still voice...
Pagina 278 - Were half the power, that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth, bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals nor forts: The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
Pagina 246 - I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;— vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow— sorrow for the lost Lenore— For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore— Nameless here for evermore.
Pagina 94 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Pagina 94 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air, Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Pagina 86 - Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those, who in their turn shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.