The Golden Gift: A Token for All SeasonsJosiah Moody Fletcher J. Buffum, 1847 - Всего страниц: 128 |
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Стр. 29
... heart again . Let us , then , be up and doing , With a heart for any fate ; Still achieving , still pursuing , Learn to labor and to wait . LONGFELLOW . Disappointment . Playful she turned that he might see The THE GOLDEN GIFT . 29.
... heart again . Let us , then , be up and doing , With a heart for any fate ; Still achieving , still pursuing , Learn to labor and to wait . LONGFELLOW . Disappointment . Playful she turned that he might see The THE GOLDEN GIFT . 29.
Стр. 30
A Token for All Seasons Josiah Moody Fletcher. Disappointment . Playful she turned that he might see The passing smile her cheek put on ; But when she marked how mournfully His eyes met hers , that smile was gone ; And , bursting into ...
A Token for All Seasons Josiah Moody Fletcher. Disappointment . Playful she turned that he might see The passing smile her cheek put on ; But when she marked how mournfully His eyes met hers , that smile was gone ; And , bursting into ...
Стр. 34
... hours , Ere day was turned to night ; For one of my nosegays of fresh wild flowers , Instead of those jewels bright . MRS . NORTON . To Harriet B , two years of age . Sweet 34 THE GOLDEN GIFT . Wealth not Happiness, Norton,
... hours , Ere day was turned to night ; For one of my nosegays of fresh wild flowers , Instead of those jewels bright . MRS . NORTON . To Harriet B , two years of age . Sweet 34 THE GOLDEN GIFT . Wealth not Happiness, Norton,
Стр. 41
... turning o'er some gifted page , How fondly do we pause , That dear companion to engage In answering applause . And when we list to music's sigh , How sweet at every tone , To read within another's eyes The raptures of our own ! To share ...
... turning o'er some gifted page , How fondly do we pause , That dear companion to engage In answering applause . And when we list to music's sigh , How sweet at every tone , To read within another's eyes The raptures of our own ! To share ...
Стр. 47
... turned away , Wet eyes shall watch the sacred spot , And this sweet flower be heard to say , Forget ! ah , no ! forget me not . Yet deep its azure leaves within , Is seen the blighting hue of care ! And what that secret grief hath been ...
... turned away , Wet eyes shall watch the sacred spot , And this sweet flower be heard to say , Forget ! ah , no ! forget me not . Yet deep its azure leaves within , Is seen the blighting hue of care ! And what that secret grief hath been ...
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Amid angel ANON beautiful birds bless blest bliss bloom blossom bower breast breeze bright Broadway brow burn cheek cheer cloud dark dear dreams dwell E'er early woo'd earth Eglantine fair fairy fancy's floweret flowers Fountain Fountain played fragrant gaze gentle glory grave grief happy hath hear hearts we love heaven hill hope hour laughed laughs at care life's light lisp live lyre merry heart morning mother mountain home mourn N. P. WILLIS NASHUA native ne'er Neath never night Nosegay o'er pale pass peace pilgrim Pilgrim Fathers play prayer pure rainbow rapture rills scenes scorn shadows sigh silent sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stars sunbeams sweet tears tell thee There's thine thou thought thy brother trees Waft waves weary weep wild wing woman's woo'd and won Yankee girls youth
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Стр. 28 - TELL me not, in mournful numbers, " Life is but an empty dream ! " For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; " Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Стр. 29 - Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act, — act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o'erhead! Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor...
Стр. 110 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth ; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Not harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue. And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts ; a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean...
Стр. 79 - These lips are mute, these eyes are dry ; But in my breast and in my brain, Awake the pangs that pass not by, The thought that ne'er shall sleep again.
Стр. 29 - In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of life, Be not like dumb driven cattle, Be a hero in the strife...
Стр. 113 - THE ocean looketh up to heaven, As 'twere a living thing; The homage of its waves is given In ceaseless worshipping. They kneel upon the sloping sand, As bends the human knee, A beautiful and tireless band, The priesthood of the sea ! They pour...
Стр. 72 - Rejoiced, when he came, in the morning's flame, In the morning's flame burns now. And the moon's cold light as it lay that night On the hillside and the sea Still lies where he laid his houseless head; — But the pilgrim — where is he?
Стр. 72 - Go, stand on the hill where they lie. The earliest ray of the golden day, On that hallowed spot is cast; And the evening sun, as he leaves the world, Looks kindly on that spot last. The Pilgrim spirit has not fled: It walks in noon's broad light; And it watches the bed of the glorious dead, With the holy stars by night. It watches the bed of the brave who have bled, And shall guard this ice-bound shore, Till the waves of the bay, where the Mayflower lay, Shall foam and freeze no more.
Стр. 28 - Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Стр. 57 - Whilst skies are blue and bright, Whilst flowers are gay, Whilst eyes that change ere night Make glad the day; Whilst yet the calm hours creep, Dream thou — and from thy sleep Then wake to weep.