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ancient ashes Avenue beam bear bell Beneath billow bloom blue Boston breeze bright brow cast cheer close crown dance dark dead dear death deep departed died dust earth face fading fair fall flame flow flowers gate gaze gentle gilded gloom glow gold golden grave green ground hand hath head heard heart holds hollow human laid land leaves lies life's light lonely look marble meet mound Mount mournful night Note o'er o’er Page pale pass Path plain poor repose rest rolling sacred sail scene shed shore shrine side sighs silver sleep smile snowy soft song soul sound sparkling spirit spread spring stone stranger's stream sweet tears tell thee thick thou Time's tomb trace tread turn voice wall waste waves weep wide wild wings wood wreath youthful
114. oldal - The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one, He lies where pearls lie deep, He was the loved of all, yet none O'er his low bed may weep.
121. oldal - In some wild forest shade, Under some spreading oak, or waving pine, Or old elm, festooned with the gadding vine, Let me be laid. In this dim lonely grot, No foot intrusive will disturb my dust ; But o'er me songs of the wild birds shall burst, Cheering the spot.
122. oldal - But o'er me songs of the wild birds shall burst, Cheering the spot. Not amid charnel stones, Or coffins dark, and thick with ancient mould, With tattered pall, and fringe of cankered gold, May rest my bones ; But let the dewy rose, The snow-drop and the violet, lend perfume Above the spot where, in my grassy tomb, I take repose. Year after year, Within the silver birch tree o'er me hung, The chirping wren shall rear her callow young, Shall build her dwelling near. And ever at the purple dawn of day...
123. oldal - And golden oriole, shall flit around, And waken, with a mellow gust of sound, • The forest's solemn hush. * Birds from the distant sea Shall sometimes hither flock, on snowy wings, And soar above my dust in airy rings, Singing a dirge to me.
122. oldal - And ever at the purple dawning of the day The lark shall chant a pealing song above, And the shrill quail, when the eve grows dim and gray, Shall pipe her hymn of love. The blackbird and the thrush, And golden oriole, shall flit around, And waken, with a mellow gust of sound, • The forest's solemn hush.
151. oldal - They dance in the sunshine, they ride upon the iieams of the stars, they float about in the melodies of music, they nestle in the cups of the flowers, and I am forced to believe, that never a flower fades, or a beam passes away, without some being mourning the brief date of loveliness on earth.
137. oldal - Where through the flowering greensward flows the brook, Sweet-smelling blooms their odorous leaves expand In every woody nook. The golden-berried waxwork weaves its wreath Of verdure ; and the clematis Shoots its soft fibres the thick boughs beneath ; And oft the...
143. oldal - Close its bright, scarce-opened eye, Blue as is the azure sky; Smooth those locks of flowing gold, Soon to tarnish in the mould ! Smooth the snowy funeral dress, Print the latest fond caress ; Close the lid, and spread the pall, Hither all the mourners call : Father ! kneel beside the bier, Mother ! drop the sparkling tear ; Brothers, sisters of the dead ! Let your partings now be said. Let the solemn preacher pray For the young soul flown away ! Bear the little coffin, then, From the noisy walks...