The Writings of John Burroughs: The breath of lifeHoughton, Mifflin and Company, 1895 |
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Стр. 10
... light green eggs , spotted with brown , And every day the he - bird , to and fro , near at hand , And every day the she - bird , crouched on her nest , silent , with bright eyes , And every day I , a curious boy , never too close ...
... light green eggs , spotted with brown , And every day the he - bird , to and fro , near at hand , And every day the she - bird , crouched on her nest , silent , with bright eyes , And every day I , a curious boy , never too close ...
Стр. 12
... light and air and motion , the com- panion of the plowman , the shepherd , the harvester , - whose nest is in the stubble and whose tryst is in the clouds . Its life affords that kind of contrast - which the imagination loves , one ...
... light and air and motion , the com- panion of the plowman , the shepherd , the harvester , - whose nest is in the stubble and whose tryst is in the clouds . Its life affords that kind of contrast - which the imagination loves , one ...
Стр. 15
... light is thine , Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony , with instinct more divine ; Type of the wise , who soar , but never roam , True to the kindred points of heaven and home . " The other poem I give entire : " Up ...
... light is thine , Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony , with instinct more divine ; Type of the wise , who soar , but never roam , True to the kindred points of heaven and home . " The other poem I give entire : " Up ...
Стр. 26
... light is come , And dew is cold upon the ground , And the far - off stream is dumb , And the whirring sail goes round , And the whirring sail goes round ; Alone and warming his five wits , The white owl in the belfry sits . " When merry ...
... light is come , And dew is cold upon the ground , And the far - off stream is dumb , And the whirring sail goes round , And the whirring sail goes round ; Alone and warming his five wits , The white owl in the belfry sits . " When merry ...
Стр. 36
... light , from post to wicket , Hops the sparrow , blithe , sedate ; Who , with meekly folded wing , Comes to sun himself and sing . " It was there , perhaps , last year , That his little house he built ; For he seems to perk and peer ...
... light , from post to wicket , Hops the sparrow , blithe , sedate ; Who , with meekly folded wing , Comes to sun himself and sing . " It was there , perhaps , last year , That his little house he built ; For he seems to perk and peer ...
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Стр. 15 - Leave to the nightingale her shady wood ; A privacy of glorious light is thine; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine; Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home...
Стр. 22 - Thrice welcome, darling of the spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery; The same whom in my school-boy days I listened to; that cry Which made me look a thousand ways, In bush and tree and sky. To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again.
Стр. 110 - I HEARD a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did nature link The human soul that through me ran ; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man.
Стр. 22 - The same whom in my school-boy days I listened to; that Cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky. To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again. O blessed Bird! the earth we pace Again appears to be An unsubstantial, faery place; That is fit home for Thee...
Стр. 14 - What thou art we know not; What is most like thee? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
Стр. 37 - And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me, And I in the middle as with companions, and as holding the hands of companions, I fled forth to the hiding receiving night that talks not, Down to the shores of the water, the path by the swamp in the dimness, To the solemn shadowy cedars and ghostly pines so still...
Стр. 23 - Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year...
Стр. 221 - Or, crown'd with attributes of woe Like glories, move his course, and show That life is not as idle ore, But iron dug from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears, And dipt in baths of hissing tears, And batter'd with the shocks of doom To shape and use. Arise and fly The reeling Faun, the sensual feast; Move upward, working out the beast, And let the ape and tiger die.
Стр. 221 - They say The solid earth whereon we tread In tracts of fluent heat began, And grew to seeming-random forms, The seeming prey of cyclic storms, Till at the last arose the man...
Стр. 6 - Less Philomel will deign a song In her sweetest saddest plight, Smoothing the rugged brow of Night, While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke Gently o'er the accustomed oak; Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, Most musical, most melancholy!