A Year's LifeC.C. Little and J. Brown, 1841 - 182 oldal The complete manuscript of James Russell Lowell's A Year's Life. Includes a few poems that did not appear in the first edition of this poetry collection. The first stanza of "Fourth of July Ode" is lacking. |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 39 találatból.
. oldal
... Light of mine eyes ! " XXV . " Silent as one who treads " XXVI . " A gentleness that grows of steady faith " 165 166 167 168 169 170 . XXVII . " When the glad soul is full " 171 XXVIII . To the Evening - star 172 XXIX . Reading 173 XXX ...
... Light of mine eyes ! " XXV . " Silent as one who treads " XXVI . " A gentleness that grows of steady faith " 165 166 167 168 169 170 . XXVII . " When the glad soul is full " 171 XXVIII . To the Evening - star 172 XXIX . Reading 173 XXX ...
3. oldal
... light , In characters a child might scan ? So bright , and gone forth utterly ! O stern word Nevermore ! The stars of those two gentle eyes Will shine no more on earth ; Quenched are the hopes that had their birth , As we watched them ...
... light , In characters a child might scan ? So bright , and gone forth utterly ! O stern word Nevermore ! The stars of those two gentle eyes Will shine no more on earth ; Quenched are the hopes that had their birth , As we watched them ...
15. oldal
... light out - shine ! Let me adore the mysteries Of those mild orbs of thine , Which ever queenly calm do roll , Attuned to an ordered soul ! II . Open thy lips yet once again , And , while my soul doth hush With awe , pour forth that ...
... light out - shine ! Let me adore the mysteries Of those mild orbs of thine , Which ever queenly calm do roll , Attuned to an ordered soul ! II . Open thy lips yet once again , And , while my soul doth hush With awe , pour forth that ...
28. oldal
... upon my mother's breast , Feeling the blessedness of rest , And dwelling in the light of other times . O ye whose living is not Life , Whose dying is but death , Long , empty toil and petty strife , Rounded with 28 THE BOBOLINK .
... upon my mother's breast , Feeling the blessedness of rest , And dwelling in the light of other times . O ye whose living is not Life , Whose dying is but death , Long , empty toil and petty strife , Rounded with 28 THE BOBOLINK .
32. oldal
... light ; He who hath seen dim shapes arise In the soundless depths of soul , Which gaze on him with meaning eyes Full of the mighty whole , Yet will no word of healing speak , Although he pray night - long , " O , help me , save me ! I ...
... light ; He who hath seen dim shapes arise In the soundless depths of soul , Which gaze on him with meaning eyes Full of the mighty whole , Yet will no word of healing speak , Although he pray night - long , " O , help me , save me ! I ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
agen art thou beautiful beneath bless blest blue breast bright bright eye C. C. LITTLE calm cataract cold dark dear deed deep doth dream dwell earth earthly ecstasy evermore face fair faith fear feel fill float flow flowers forget fresh gentle glad gleams glow golden gone green grief grow gushing hair happy happy day happy hour hath hear Heaven holy Hope Isabel Life's light live lonely look love thee lowly meek melody memories mild mournful Murmuring never night nook o'er peace pleasant Poet pure rest round scrip shine sight silent singing skies sleep smile song soul's SPHINX spirit stars stern word stir stream strive strong summer sunny sunshine sweet sympathy tears tell thine eyes things thou art thoughts thrall thy heart thy soul trees unto voice wandering watch waves weary weep wert whence whither wind wings
Népszerű szakaszok
150. oldal - BE NOBLE ! and the nobleness that lies In other men, sleeping, but never dead, Will rise in majesty to meet thine own : Then wilt thou see it gleam in many eyes, Then will pure light around thy path be shed, And thou wilt never more be sad and lone.
82. oldal - She is a woman : one in whom The spring-time of her childish years Hath never lost its fresh perfume, Though knowing well that life hath room For many blights and many tears.
81. oldal - Blessing she is : God made her so; And deeds of week-day holiness Fall from her noiseless as the snow; Nor hath she ever chanced to know That aught were easier than to bless. She is most fair, and thereunto Her life doth rightly harmonize ; Feeling or thought that was not true Ne'er made less beautiful the blue Unclouded heaven of her eyes.
79. oldal - NOT as all other women are Is she that to my soul is dear ; Her glorious fancies come from far, Beneath the silver evening-star, And yet her heart is ever near. Great feelings hath she of her own, Which lesser souls may never know...
80. oldal - Great feelings hath she of her own, Which lesser souls may never know ; God giveth them to her alone, And sweet they are as any tone Wherewith the wind may choose to blow.
8. oldal - O stern word — Nevermore ! Full short his journey was ; no dust Of earth unto his sandals clave ; The weary weight that old men must, He bore not to the grave. He seemed a cherub who had lost his way And wandered hither, so his stay With us was short, and 't was most meet That he should be no delver in earth's clod, Nor need to pause and cleanse his feet To stand before his God : O blest word — Evermore ! THE SIRENS.
159. oldal - I would not have this perfect love of ours Grow from a single root, a single stem, Bearing no goodly fruit, but only flowers That idly hide life's iron diadem : It should grow alway like that eastern tree Whose limbs take root and spread forth constantly ; That love for one, from which there doth not spring Wide love for all, it is but a worthless thing.
107. oldal - A BEGGAR through the world am I, — From place to place I wander by. Fill up my pilgrim's scrip for me, For Christ's sweet sake and charity...
80. oldal - She doeth little kindnesses, Which most leave undone, or despise: For naught that sets one heart at ease, And giveth happiness or peace, Is low-esteemed in her eyes.
83. oldal - Which, by high tower and lowly mill, Goes wandering at its own will, And yet doth ever flow aright. And, on its full, deep breast serene, Like quiet isles my duties lie ; It flows around them and between, And makes them fresh and fair and green, Sweet homes wherein to live and die.