Roadside Poems for Summer TravellersLucy Larcom J. R. Osgood, 1876 - 263 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 46
... passing pilgrim prays , And beyond St. Catherine's chiming on the blessed Sabbath days ? So , young muser , I sat listening To my fancy's wildest word On a sudden , through the glistening Leaves around a little stirred , Came a sound ...
... passing pilgrim prays , And beyond St. Catherine's chiming on the blessed Sabbath days ? So , young muser , I sat listening To my fancy's wildest word On a sudden , through the glistening Leaves around a little stirred , Came a sound ...
الصفحة 103
... passing even into my purer mind , With tranquil restoration : - feelings too Of unremembered pleasure : such , perhaps , As have no slight or trivial influence On that best portion of a good man's life , His little , nameless ...
... passing even into my purer mind , With tranquil restoration : - feelings too Of unremembered pleasure : such , perhaps , As have no slight or trivial influence On that best portion of a good man's life , His little , nameless ...
الصفحة 120
... passing on the gale , - The stately argosies of air , - - - And parley with the helmsmen there ; Can probe their dim , mysterious source , Ask of their cargo and their course , Whence come ? where bound ? — and wait reply , As , all ...
... passing on the gale , - The stately argosies of air , - - - And parley with the helmsmen there ; Can probe their dim , mysterious source , Ask of their cargo and their course , Whence come ? where bound ? — and wait reply , As , all ...
الصفحة 124
... passes by . Nothing is true , But stands ' tween me and you , Thou western pioneer , Who know'st not shame nor fear , By venturous spirit driven , Under the eaves of heaven , And can'st expand thee there , And breathe enough of air ...
... passes by . Nothing is true , But stands ' tween me and you , Thou western pioneer , Who know'st not shame nor fear , By venturous spirit driven , Under the eaves of heaven , And can'st expand thee there , And breathe enough of air ...
الصفحة 163
... passing by , And smiles above the thunder - storm . There Avin spreads her ample deep , To mirror cliffs that brush the Wain ; Whose frigid eyes forever weep , In summer sun and autumn rain . There matin - hymn was never sung , Nor ...
... passing by , And smiles above the thunder - storm . There Avin spreads her ample deep , To mirror cliffs that brush the Wain ; Whose frigid eyes forever weep , In summer sun and autumn rain . There matin - hymn was never sung , Nor ...
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طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
amid Apennine azure Bayard Taylor beauty beneath bird Blaavin bless blue bosom boughs bower breath bright brook brooklet brow calm cliffs climb clouds crags Cromer dark deep dream earth earthquake storm echoes eyes fair feet flowers forests forever Glaramara gleams glory gold golden golden air gorses grand horizon gray green hath hear heart heaven height Highlands hills Jean Ingelow lake land light live LOCH KATRINE lonely look Lucy Larcom mighty mist Mont Blanc morning mountain murmuring Naiad never night o'er ocean peak pines purple rain rills river rocks round shade shadows shine silent silver sing Skiddaw sleep smile snow soft song soul sound spirit splendor stars steep storm streams summer summit sweet T. B. Aldrich thee thine things thou thought thunder torrent trees vale valley voice wandering waters waves wild wind woods Wordsworth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 157 - The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes, And the •wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
الصفحة 172 - Clear, placid Leman ! thy contrasted lake, With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake , Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction ; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
الصفحة 107 - When these wild ecstasies shall be matured Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, Thy memory be as a dwelling-place For all sweet sounds and harmonies ; oh ! then, If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief, Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts Of tender joy wilt thou remember me, And these my exhortations ! Nor, perchance — If I should be where I no more can hear } Thy voice...
الصفحة 179 - Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet! God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!
الصفحة 105 - All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, ' And mountains ; and of all that we behold From this green earth; of all the mighty world Of eye and ear, both what they half create *, And what perceive...
الصفحة 178 - Blanc! The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful form ! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently! Around thee and above Deep is the air, and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look...
الصفحة 180 - Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds ! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God ! Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost ! Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle's nest ! Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain-storm ! Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds ! Ye signs and wonders of the elements, Utter forth God...
الصفحة 85 - Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither; Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.
الصفحة 104 - That time is past, And all its aching joys are now no more, And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other gifts Have followed ; for such loss, I would believe, Abundant recompence. For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.
الصفحة 102 - Five years have past ; five summers, with the length Of five long winters ! and again I hear These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs With a soft inland murmur. — Once again Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs, That on a wild secluded scene impress Thoughts of more deep seclusion ; and connect The landscape with the quiet of the sky. The day is come when I again repose Here, under this dark sycamore, and view...