Golden Leaves from the American PoetsHurst & Company, pref., 1864 - Всего страниц: 398 |
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Стр. vi
... seemed to me a fitting tribute to render to those Poets whose works had entered so largely into my professional studies for the last thirty years , and between whom and the mere cur sory reader , and those of a yet immature age , I had ...
... seemed to me a fitting tribute to render to those Poets whose works had entered so largely into my professional studies for the last thirty years , and between whom and the mere cur sory reader , and those of a yet immature age , I had ...
Стр. 7
... seemed to me Illustrious in their own simplicity . ' Twas ere the neighbouring Virgin - Land had broke The hogsheads of her worse than hellish smoak . ' Twas ere the Islands sent their presents in , Which but to use was counted next to ...
... seemed to me Illustrious in their own simplicity . ' Twas ere the neighbouring Virgin - Land had broke The hogsheads of her worse than hellish smoak . ' Twas ere the Islands sent their presents in , Which but to use was counted next to ...
Стр. 45
... ; Like a sailor she seemed on a desolate shore , With nor house , nor a tree , nor a sound but the roar Of breakers high dashing around . From object to object still , still would she veer ALLSTON . 45 WASHINGTON ALLSTON The Paint-King.
... ; Like a sailor she seemed on a desolate shore , With nor house , nor a tree , nor a sound but the roar Of breakers high dashing around . From object to object still , still would she veer ALLSTON . 45 WASHINGTON ALLSTON The Paint-King.
Стр. 47
... seemed of the stone ; Yet he languished as though for its beauty he pined , And gazed as the eyes of the statue so blind Reflected the beams of his own . " Twas the tale of the sculptor Pygmalion of old Fair Ellen remembered , and ...
... seemed of the stone ; Yet he languished as though for its beauty he pined , And gazed as the eyes of the statue so blind Reflected the beams of his own . " Twas the tale of the sculptor Pygmalion of old Fair Ellen remembered , and ...
Стр. 56
... seemed to say , " Passing away ! passing away ! " Oh , how bright were the wheels , that told Of the lapse of time , as they moved round slow And the hands , as they swept o'er the dial of gold , Seemed to point to the girl below . And ...
... seemed to say , " Passing away ! passing away ! " Oh , how bright were the wheels , that told Of the lapse of time , as they moved round slow And the hands , as they swept o'er the dial of gold , Seemed to point to the girl below . And ...
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ANNABEL Lee beauty bells beneath bird bless blest blood blue bosom brave breast breath breeze bright brow burning charms cloud cold courser dark dead death deep dream earth fair fairy falchion fire flame floating flowers gaze gleam glorious glory glow golden grave green hand hast Hasty Pudding hath heart heaven HELON hills holy hour land leaves light lips living lonely look lyre maize moon morning never Nevermore night nursling o'er old oaken bucket pale passed prayer Quoth the Raven rapture rock roll round shade shadow Shammar shine shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star-spangled banner stars storm stream sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou art thought throne toil towers tread tree Twas twill voice water-sprites wave WHIP-POOR-WILL wild wind wing witch-hazel youth
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Стр. 84 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware.
Стр. 292 - Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow: You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow. Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing floor.
Стр. 249 - But the Raven still beguiling All my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in Front of bird and bust and door ; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking What this ominous bird of yore — What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, Gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking
Стр. 86 - All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Стр. 84 - Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart, Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around — Earth, and her waters, and the depths of air — Comes a still voice...
Стр. 278 - Were half the power, that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth, bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals nor forts: The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
Стр. 246 - I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;— vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow— sorrow for the lost Lenore— For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore— Nameless here for evermore.
Стр. 94 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Стр. 94 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air, Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Стр. 86 - Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those, who in their turn shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.