beautiful bees birds black crows blossom bobolink bosom breath bright brooks Cædmon cage called cañon cataract cells child cliffs clouds Danes dark deep earth eyes fall father feet flowers forest friends fringed gentian GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS glow gorges grave green Guthrum hand hast hear heart heaven hive hundred Iago Irving king King Alfred lake land leaves liberty light living look ment mighty miles minute-man mother mountain nature never night o'er OLIVER GOLDSMITH once PAUL DENTON poem poet rain rest river rocks rolled round shore side sing sleep smile snow song soul spider stream summer sweet Swipes thee things THIRTEEN COLONIES thou thought thousand thread tree violin voice Washington WASHINGTON IRVING watch waters waves WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind wings wonderful word young
Стр. 237 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Стр. 178 - Liberty first, and Union afterwards, — but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart, — Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable," God grant it, — God grant it!
Стр. 260 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year...
Стр. 76 - Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone ; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone ; No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh. I'll not leave thee, thou lone one ! To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them. Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead.
Стр. 268 - THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown ; Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth, And Melancholy marked him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send ; He gave to Misery all he had, a tear, He gained from Heaven ('t was all he wished) a friend.
Стр. 475 - Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus: but use all gently: for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it smoothness.
Стр. 141 - It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry Peace, peace ! but there is no peace. The war is actually begun. The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms. Our brethren are already in the field. Why stand we here idle ? What is it that gentlemen wish ? What would they have ? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery ? Forbid it, Almighty God ! I know not what course others may take ;...
Стр. 99 - I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.