The Poets of America: Illustrated by One of Her Painters...John Keese C. Tilt, 1840 - 284 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 28
... once a thousand streamy stings ; They cut the wave with the living oar , And hurry on to the moonlight shore , To guard their realms and chase away The footsteps of the invading Fay . Fearlessly he skims along , XIV . His hope is high ...
... once a thousand streamy stings ; They cut the wave with the living oar , And hurry on to the moonlight shore , To guard their realms and chase away The footsteps of the invading Fay . Fearlessly he skims along , XIV . His hope is high ...
الصفحة 36
... the silk of the thistle down The corslet - plate that guarded his breast Was once the wild - bee's golden vest ; His cloak , of a thousand mingled dies , Was formed of the wings of butterflies ; 37 37 THE CULPRIT FAY . His shield was the.
... the silk of the thistle down The corslet - plate that guarded his breast Was once the wild - bee's golden vest ; His cloak , of a thousand mingled dies , Was formed of the wings of butterflies ; 37 37 THE CULPRIT FAY . His shield was the.
الصفحة 49
... once to heaven and thee , And smile to see thy splendours fly In triumph o'er his closing eye .. Flag of the free heart's hope and home ! By angel hands to valour given ; The stars have lit the welkin dome , And all thy hues were born ...
... once to heaven and thee , And smile to see thy splendours fly In triumph o'er his closing eye .. Flag of the free heart's hope and home ! By angel hands to valour given ; The stars have lit the welkin dome , And all thy hues were born ...
الصفحة 51
... once a week In Scudder's balcony . But the music of young thoughts too soon Is faint , and dies away , And from our morning dreams we wake To curse the coming day . And childhood's frolic hours are brief , And oft , in after years ...
... once a week In Scudder's balcony . But the music of young thoughts too soon Is faint , and dies away , And from our morning dreams we wake To curse the coming day . And childhood's frolic hours are brief , And oft , in after years ...
الصفحة 80
... once had been , And heard by the distant and measured stroke , That the woodman hewed down the giant oak , And burning thoughts flashed over his mind Of the white man's faith , and love unkind . THE INDIAN HUNTER . The moon of the ...
... once had been , And heard by the distant and measured stroke , That the woodman hewed down the giant oak , And burning thoughts flashed over his mind Of the white man's faith , and love unkind . THE INDIAN HUNTER . The moon of the ...
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ALARIC ALNWICK CASTLE beam beauty bending beneath bird blue bosom bough bowers BOZZARIS breast breath breeze bright brow charm cheek cloud courser crimson CULPRIT FAY dark death deep dream earth echo elfin fading fair fairy float flowers forest gale gaze gems gentle glance gleam glorious glory glow golden Greece green grove hath hear heard heart heaven hills hour land leap light lonely lyre morning N. P. WILLIS night o'er old oaken bucket pale passed Pindus purple R. H. DANA rock rose round scene shade SHAKSPEARE ODE shine shore sigh silent moon silver sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream summer sweet swelling sylphs tear THANATOPSIS thee thine thou art thoughts throne tone tree Twas VISIGOTH VISIT FROM ST voice wandering water-sprites waters wave wild winds wing witch-hazel woods young
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 75 - 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.
الصفحة 59 - 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.
الصفحة 78 - 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.
الصفحة 136 - But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Like a staff, And a crook is in his back, And a melancholy crack In his laugh. I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here ; But the old three-cornered hat, And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer...
الصفحة 77 - 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.
الصفحة 104 - He was chubby and plump ; a right jolly old elf; And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings ; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle , But I heard him exclaim,...
الصفحة 213 - Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? Alas ! they all are in their graves ; the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie ; but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy Dearth the lovely ones again.
الصفحة 102 - Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there...
الصفحة 104 - As I drew in my head and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot...
الصفحة 49 - Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frighted waves rush wildly back Before the broadside's reeling rack, Each dying wanderer of the sea Shall look at once to heaven and thee, And smile to see thy splendors fly In triumph o'er his closing eye.