طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
Absalom beams beauty beneath bird blessed bloom blue bosom breath breeze bright brow calm CARLOS WILCOX clouds cold dark dead death deep didst Doug dread dream dwell earth eternal fair Father fear feel flowers gathering band gaze gentle glorious glory glow golden golden sun gone grave green Hadad hand hast hath hear heart heaven hills holy hour leaves light linger lips living lonely look lyre morning mountain Nath night o'er ocean old oaken bucket pale peace prayer pure rest roll round Samuel F. B. Morse scene shade shalt shine shore silent skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stars storm stream sublime sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou art thought thundering bands tomb tread trees Twas twill vale voice Warkworth castle waters waves weary weep white-thorn wild winds wings woods youth
الصفحة 35 - The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago, And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow ; But on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, And the yellow sunflower by the ' brook, in autumn beauty stood, Till fell the frost from the clear, cold heaven, as falls the plague on men, And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland, glade, and glen.
الصفحة 140 - Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom...
الصفحة 153 - Ah, why Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd, and under roofs That our frail hands have raised ? Let me, at least, Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, Offer one hymn — thrice happy, if it find Acceptance in His ear. Father, thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns, thou Didst weave this verdant roof.
الصفحة 54 - 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 55 - Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet, on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright.
الصفحة 141 - 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...
الصفحة 268 - God's blessing breathed upon the fainting earth ! Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest, Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse The wide old wood from his majestic rest, Summoning from the innumerable boughs The strange, deep harmonies that haunt his breast...
الصفحة 196 - How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it, As poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips! Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips.
الصفحة 153 - THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them — ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.