The Poetical WorksHoughton, Mifflin and Company, 1885 - 472 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
2. oldal
... the loneliness of day , To see the still seals only Solemnly lift their faces gray , Making it yet more lonely ? Is it not better , than to hear Only the sliding of the wave Beneath the plank , MISCELLANEOUS POEMS . The Sirens The Sirens.
... the loneliness of day , To see the still seals only Solemnly lift their faces gray , Making it yet more lonely ? Is it not better , than to hear Only the sliding of the wave Beneath the plank , MISCELLANEOUS POEMS . The Sirens The Sirens.
7. oldal
... hear The slender clarion of the unseen midge ; Out of the stillness , with a gathering creep , Like rising wind in leaves , which now decreases , Now lulls , now swells , and all the while increases , The huddling trample of a drove of ...
... hear The slender clarion of the unseen midge ; Out of the stillness , with a gathering creep , Like rising wind in leaves , which now decreases , Now lulls , now swells , and all the while increases , The huddling trample of a drove of ...
8. oldal
... hear it from the leaves , All is so bodingly still ; Again , now , now , again Plashes the rain in heavy gouts , The crinkled lightning Seems ever brightening , And loud and long Again the thunder shouts His battle - song , One ...
... hear it from the leaves , All is so bodingly still ; Again , now , now , again Plashes the rain in heavy gouts , The crinkled lightning Seems ever brightening , And loud and long Again the thunder shouts His battle - song , One ...
13. oldal
... hear In the dim void , like to the awful hum- ming Of the great wings of some new - light- ed sphere ! O , prophesy no more , but be the Poet ! Thislonging was but granted unto thee That , when all beauty thou couldst feel and know it ...
... hear In the dim void , like to the awful hum- ming Of the great wings of some new - light- ed sphere ! O , prophesy no more , but be the Poet ! Thislonging was but granted unto thee That , when all beauty thou couldst feel and know it ...
14. oldal
... hear a mortal like an angel sing . III . Among the toil - worn poor my soul is seeking For one to bring the Maker's name to light , To bethevoiceofthat almighty speaking Which every age demands to do it right . Proprieties our silken ...
... hear a mortal like an angel sing . III . Among the toil - worn poor my soul is seeking For one to bring the Maker's name to light , To bethevoiceofthat almighty speaking Which every age demands to do it right . Proprieties our silken ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
afore agin ain't aint airth arter beauty bein Biglow blood brain dark dear deep divine doth doughface dream earth eyes faith fancy fear feel feller folks fust give God's gret hand happy hath hear heart heaven heerd hope HOSEA idee Jaalam John Bull ketch kind larn leaves letters life's light live long ez look mind Mordred mused nater nature neath never nevermore night nothin o'er ollers once poet poor rhyme Rosaline round Sawin sech seemed silent sing Sir Launfal slavery song soul spile spirit sunshine sure sweet tell thee there's thet thet's thine things thou thought thout thru tree true truth turn twixt verse warn't Wilbur wind wonder word wun't Yankee
Népszerű szakaszok
45. oldal - New occasions teach new duties : Time makes ancient good uncouth ; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth ; Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires ! we ourselves must Pilgrims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea. Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key.
86. 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 nevermore be sad and lone.
100. oldal - This water His blood that died on the tree ; The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, In whatso we share with another's need ; Not what we give, but what we share, — For the gift without the giver is bare ; Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, — Himself, his hungering neighbour, and Me.
95. oldal - First guessed by faint auroral flushes sent Along the wavering vista of his dream. Not only around our infancy Doth heaven with all its splendors lie, Daily, with souls that cringe and plot, We Sinais climb and know it not. Over our manhood bend the skies ; Against our fallen and traitor lives The great winds utter prophecies ; With our faint hearts the mountain strives, Its arms outstretched, the druid wood Waits with its benedicite ; And to our age's drowsy blood Still shouts the inspiring sea.
44. oldal - Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side; Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight, Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right.1 And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light.
410. oldal - Great captains, with their guns and drums, Disturb our judgment for the hour, But at last silence comes; These all are gone, and, standing like a tower, Our children shall behold his fame, The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man, Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, New birth of our new soil, the first American.
44. oldal - ... Falsehood, for the good or evil side ; Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight, Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right, And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light. Hast thou chosen, O my people, on whose party thou shalt stand, Ere the Doom from its worn sandals shakes the dust against our land ? Though the cause of Evil prosper, yet 't is Truth alone is strong, And, albeit she wander outcast now, I see around her...
229. oldal - There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin'. The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out Towards the pootiest, bless her, An' leetle flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser. Agin the chimbley crook-necks hung, An' in amongst 'em rusted The ole queen's-arm thet gran'ther Young Fetched back f'om Concord busted.
134. oldal - Mix well, and while stirring, hum o'er, as a spell, The fine old English Gentleman, simmer it well, Sweeten just to your own private liking, then strain, That only the finest and clearest remain, Let it stand out of doors till a soul it receives From the warm lazy sun loitering down through green leaves, And you'll find a choice nature, not wholly deserving A name either English or Yankee, — just Irving.
x. oldal - Yet in herself she dwelleth not, Although no home were half so fair; No simplest duty is forgot, Life hath no dim and lowly spot That doth not in her sunshine share. 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.