Taghconic: Or, Letters and Legends about Our Summer Home

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Redding, 1852 - 228 oldal

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41. oldal - And what is so rare as a day in June ? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays : Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might. An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
149. oldal - Ah ! that such beauty, varying in the light Of living nature, cannot be portrayed By words, nor by the pencil's silent skill; But is the property of him alone Who hath beheld it, noted it with care, And in his mind recorded it with love...
15. oldal - 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...
13. oldal - Threading its way out from among his grey hairs, and continuing right down one side of his tawny scorched face and neck, till it disappeared in his clothing, you saw a slender rod-like mark, lividly whitish.
209. oldal - It is a fearful thing To stand upon the beetling verge, and see Where storm and lightning, from that huge gray wall, Have tumbled down vast blocks, and at the base Dashed them in fragments, and to lay thine ear Over the dizzy depth, and hear the sound Of winds, that struggle with the woods below, Come up like ocean murmurs.
i. oldal - And down into the secrets of the glens, And streams, that with their bordering thickets strive To hide their windings. Thou shalt gaze, at once, Here on white villages, and tilth, and herds, And swarming roads, and there on solitudes That only hear the torrent, and the wind, And eagle's shriek.
207. oldal - That seems a fragment of some mighty wall Built by the hand that fashioned the old world To separate its nations, and thrown down When the flood drowned them. To the north a path Conducts you up the narrow battlement.
152. oldal - O God ! O Good beyond compare ! If thus Thy meaner works are fair ! If thus Thy bounties gild the span Of ruin'd earth and sinful man, How glorious must the mansion be Where Thy redeem'd shall dwell with Thee ! FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
200. oldal - ... looking for the general resurrection in the last day, and the life of the world to come, through our Lord Jesus Christ; at whose second coming in glorious majesty to judge the world, the earth and the sea shall give up their dead; and the corruptible bodies of those who sleep in him shall be changed and made like unto his own glorious body; according to the mighty working whereby he is able to subdue all things unto himself.
80. oldal - Bars the fierce noonbeam with its flakes of green; Stay the rude axe that bares the shadowy plains, Stanch the deep wound that dries the maple's veins. Come with the stream whose silver-braided rills Fling their unclasping bracelets from the hills, Till in one gleam, beneath the forest's wings, Melts the white glitter of a hundred springs.

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