The Humbler Poets: A Collection of Newspaper and Periodical Verse, 1870-1885A.C. McClurg, 1885 - Всего страниц: 459 |
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Стр. 301
... But for our blunders - oh , in shame Before the eyes of Heaven we fall . " Earth bears no balsam for mistakes ; Men crown the knave , and scourge the tool That did his will ; but thou , O Lord , Be merciful to me , a fool ! " The room ...
... But for our blunders - oh , in shame Before the eyes of Heaven we fall . " Earth bears no balsam for mistakes ; Men crown the knave , and scourge the tool That did his will ; but thou , O Lord , Be merciful to me , a fool ! " The room ...
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angel baby Beautiful snow bird bless blossoms blue breast breath bright brow CHARLES MACKAY child Christmas clasp cold comes dark dead dear death dream earth Eliab EUGENE FIELD eyes F. W. BOURDILLON face faded fair fall feet fleur-de-lis flowers flute glad gleam glory glow gold golden gray hair hand happy hath hear heart heaven HOMER GREENE hope hour JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY kiss life's light lingering lips look love's morning mother neath never nevermore night o'er pain passed prayer R. D. BLACKMORE rain rest RILEY SMITH ROANN rose round Scribner's Magazine shadows shadows fall shine sigh silent sing smile soft song sorrow soul stars summer sunshine sweet tears tell tender thee Theodore Tilton There's things thou thought tide to-day to-night voice wait waves weary whisper wind words
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Стр. 255 - gainst time or fate, For lo ! my own shall come to me. I stay my haste, I make delays, For what avails this eager pace ? I stand amid the eternal ways. And what is mine shall know my face.
Стр. 76 - Ring out, ye crystal spheres ! Once bless our human ears, If ye have power to touch our senses so; And let your silver chime Move in melodious time ; And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
Стр. 122 - The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle.
Стр. 277 - I live for those who love me, For those who know me true, For the heaven that smiles above me, And awaits my spirit too ; For the cause that lacks assistance, For the wrong that needs resistance, For the future in the distance, And the good that I can do.
Стр. 235 - But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart! God's plans like lilies pure and white unfold. We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart, Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.
Стр. 328 - It may be glorious to write Thoughts that shall glad the two or three High souls, like those far stars that come in sight Once in a century ; — But better far it is to speak One simple word, which now and then Shall waken their free nature in the weak And friendless sons of men...
Стр. 414 - Wet with the rain, the Blue; Wet with the rain, the Gray. Sadly, but not with upbraiding The generous deed was done ; In the storm of the years that are fading, No braver battle was won ; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day ; Under the blossoms, the Blue ; Under the garlands, the Gray.
Стр. 198 - WHEN the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight; Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fire-light Dance upon the parlor wall; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more...
Стр. 310 - Noiselessly as the springtime Her crown of verdure weaves. And all the trees on all the hills Open their thousand leaves, — So, without sound of music, Or voice of them that wept. Silently down from the mountain's crown The great procession swept.
Стр. 301 - These clumsy feet, still in the mire, Go crushing blossoms without end ; These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust Among the heart-strings of a friend. " The ill-timed truth we might have kept — Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung ? The word we had not sense to say — Who knows how grandly it had rung...