PoemsH. Altemus, 1895 - 188 من الصفحات |
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
amid arms beauty behold beneath bird blood bloom blossoms blue boughs boundless breath bright brow calm clouds cold dark dead death deep didst dust dwell earth eternal fair flowers forest gathered gaze gentle George Long glad glen glide glittering glorious glory grave gray Greece green groves gushing hand hath hear heart heaven HENRY ALTEMUS hills hour HYMN John Ruskin land light look maiden maize mighty mountain murmur Nathaniel Hawthorne night o'er pass path Pisa PITCAIRN'S ISLAND pure race rain Ralph Waldo Emerson realms Rizpah rocks round savannas shade shaggy shore sight smile snow soft song sound spirit springs stars stream strife summer sweet swell thee thine Thomas Carlyle thou art thou dost Thou shalt trees tribes twilight vales voice wander watch waters weep wild WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT wind wind-flower wings woods worship youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 121 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way...
الصفحة 37 - 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 34 - 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 118 - 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 earth the lovely ones again.
الصفحة 37 - 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 118 - THE melancholy days are come, The saddest of the year, Of wailing winds and naked woods, And meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, The autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, And to the rabbit's tread ; The robin and the wren are flown, And from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow Through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers...
الصفحة 140 - When he took off the gyves. A bearded man, Armed to the teeth, art thou; one mailed hand Grasps the broad shield, and one the sword; thy brow, Glorious in beauty though it be, is scarred With tokens of old wars; thy massive limbs Are strong with struggling. Power at thee has launched His bolts, and with his lightnings smitten thee. They could not quench the life thou hast from heaven.
الصفحة 44 - That run along the summit of these trees In music ; — thou art in the cooler breath That from the inmost darkness of the place Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with thee. Here is continual worship; — nature, here, In the tranquillity that thou dost love, Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around, From perch to perch, the solitary bird Passes ; and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs, Wells softly forth and visits the strong roots...
الصفحة 36 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods 'Where rolls the Oregon and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
الصفحة 114 - Look, look, through our glittering ranks afar, In the infinite azure, star after star, How they brighten and bloom as they swiftly pass ! How the verdure runs o'er each rolling mass ! And the path of the gentle winds is seen, Where the small waves dance, and the young woods lean.