Poems, 2. kötetTicknor, Reed, and Fields, 1853 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 25 találatból.
27. oldal
... meadow - lands Rise the blue Franconian mountains , Nuremberg , the ancient , stands Quaint old town of toil and traffic , quaint old town of art and song , Memories haunt thy pointed gables , like the rooks that round them throng ...
... meadow - lands Rise the blue Franconian mountains , Nuremberg , the ancient , stands Quaint old town of toil and traffic , quaint old town of art and song , Memories haunt thy pointed gables , like the rooks that round them throng ...
49. oldal
... meadows broad and damp The fires of the besieging camp Encircled with a burning belt . Up and down these echoing stairs , Heavy with the weight of cares , Sounded his majestic tread ; Yes , within this very room Sat he in those hours of ...
... meadows broad and damp The fires of the besieging camp Encircled with a burning belt . Up and down these echoing stairs , Heavy with the weight of cares , Sounded his majestic tread ; Yes , within this very room Sat he in those hours of ...
82. oldal
... meadows , Like fearful shadows , Slowly passes A funeral train . The bell is pealing , And every feeling Within me responds To the dismal knell ; Shadows are trailing , My heart is bewailing And tolling within Like a funeral bell . TO ...
... meadows , Like fearful shadows , Slowly passes A funeral train . The bell is pealing , And every feeling Within me responds To the dismal knell ; Shadows are trailing , My heart is bewailing And tolling within Like a funeral bell . TO ...
116. oldal
... meadow brook , the meadow brook , is mir- ror of thy falsehood ! It flows so long as falls the rain , In drought its springs soon dry again . The meadow brook , the meadow brook , is mir- ror of thy falsehood ! ANNIE OF THARAW . FROM ...
... meadow brook , the meadow brook , is mir- ror of thy falsehood ! It flows so long as falls the rain , In drought its springs soon dry again . The meadow brook , the meadow brook , is mir- ror of thy falsehood ! ANNIE OF THARAW . FROM ...
147. oldal
... meadows stretched to the eastward , Giving the village its name , and pasture to flocks without number . Dikes , that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant , Shut out the turbulent tides ; but at stated seasons the ...
... meadows stretched to the eastward , Giving the village its name , and pasture to flocks without number . Dikes , that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant , Shut out the turbulent tides ; but at stated seasons the ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
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
Népszerű szakaszok
331. oldal - 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!
354. oldal - 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.
23. oldal - 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...
78. oldal - 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...
316. oldal - 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.
283. oldal - 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.
100. oldal - 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 !
131. oldal - Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small ; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
97. 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, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever...
139. oldal - 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...