Poems, المجلد 2Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, 1853 |
من داخل الكتاب
النتائج 1-5 من 44
الصفحة 11
... it watches o'er the town . As the summer morn was breaking , on that lofty tower I stood , And the world threw off the darkness , like the weeds of widowhood . Thick with towns and hamlets studded , and with streams 11.
... it watches o'er the town . As the summer morn was breaking , on that lofty tower I stood , And the world threw off the darkness , like the weeds of widowhood . Thick with towns and hamlets studded , and with streams 11.
الصفحة 58
... Stood the great giant Algebar , Orion , hunter of the beast ! His sword hung gleaming by his side , And , on his arm , the lion's hide Scattered across the midnight air The golden radiance of its hair . The moon was pallid , but not ...
... Stood the great giant Algebar , Orion , hunter of the beast ! His sword hung gleaming by his side , And , on his arm , the lion's hide Scattered across the midnight air The golden radiance of its hair . The moon was pallid , but not ...
الصفحة 59
... stood in strange alarm ! And suddenly from his outstretched arm Down fell the red skin of the lion Into the river at his feet . His mighty club no longer beat The forehead of the bull ; but he Reeled as of beside the sea , yore When ...
... stood in strange alarm ! And suddenly from his outstretched arm Down fell the red skin of the lion Into the river at his feet . His mighty club no longer beat The forehead of the bull ; but he Reeled as of beside the sea , yore When ...
الصفحة 60
... heavenly lyre its blast , And on from sphere to sphere the words Reëchoed down the burning chords , - " Forevermore , forevermore , The reign of violence is o'er ! " THE BRIDGE . I STOOD on the bridge at midnight 60 POEMS .
... heavenly lyre its blast , And on from sphere to sphere the words Reëchoed down the burning chords , - " Forevermore , forevermore , The reign of violence is o'er ! " THE BRIDGE . I STOOD on the bridge at midnight 60 POEMS .
الصفحة 61
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE BRIDGE . I STOOD on the bridge at midnight , As the clocks were striking the hour , And the moon rose o'er the city , Behind the dark church - tower . I saw her bright reflection In the waters under me ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE BRIDGE . I STOOD on the bridge at midnight , As the clocks were striking the hour , And the moon rose o'er the city , Behind the dark church - tower . I saw her bright reflection In the waters under me ...
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Acadian Albrecht Dürer aloft art thou Balder Basil the blacksmith Béarn beautiful behold belfry BELFRY OF BRUGES bell beneath birds blossom breath bride Bruges burning Christmas carols cloud cried dark dead descended door Evangeline Evangeline's eyes face fair farmer Father fire Ever higher fireside forest forever Forever never Gabriel Gascon Ghent gleam golden Grand-Pré Guy de Dampierre hand hear heard heart heaven higher Sing JULIUS MOSEN labor land laugh light loud maiden meadows Minnesingers morning never Never forever Nuremberg o'er ocean odor Ozark Mountains passed prairies prayer priest rain rise river rose round sail Saint sang seemed shadow ships shore silent slowly smile song sorrow soul sound spake stands stars stood sunshine sweet Tharaw thee thou thought tide toil unto village voice wander wave weary whispered wild wind words youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 331 - We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
الصفحة 354 - There is no Death ! What seems so is transition ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life Elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
الصفحة 23 - THIS is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling, Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms ; But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing Startles the villages with strange alarms. Ah ! what a sound will rise, how wild and dreary, When the death-angel touches those swift keys ! What loud lament and dismal Miserere Will mingle with their awful symphonies...
الصفحة 78 - Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavour ; And to-night I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart. As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the...
الصفحة 316 - Standing before Her father's door, He saw the form of his promised bride. The sun shone on her golden hair, And her cheek was glowing fresh and fair, With the breath of morn and the soft sea air.
الصفحة 283 - TN that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware's waters, Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle, Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded. There all the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem of beauty, And the streets still re-echo the names of the trees of the forest, As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they molested.
الصفحة 100 - All are scattered now and fled, Some are married, some are dead ; And when I ask. with throbs of pain, •' Ah ! when shall they all meet again ?" As in the days long since gone by, The ancient timepiece makes reply, — " Forever — never ! Never — forever !
الصفحة 131 - Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small ; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
الصفحة 97 - Half-way up the stairs it stands, And points and beckons with its hands '• From its case of massive oak, Like a monk, who, under his cloak, Crosses himself, and sighs, alas! With sorrowful voice to all who pass, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever...
الصفحة 139 - THE book is completed, And closed, like the day ; And the hand that has written It Lays it away. Dim grow its fancies ; Forgotten they lie ; Like coals in the ashes, They darken and die. Song sinks into silence, The story is told, The windows are darkened, The hearth-stone is cold. Darker and darker The black shadows fall ; Sleep and oblivion Reign over alL EVANGELINE. A TALE OF ACADIE. THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks...