The Poetical Works of James R. Lowell ...: Complete in Two Volumes, Том 1Ticknor and Fields, 1863 |
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Страница 25
... Grows from behind its black , clearedged bound , No spot of dark the fountain keepeth , But , swift as opening eyelids leapeth Into a waving silver flower . 1841 . THE MOON . My soul was like the sea , TO PERDITA , SINGING . 25 The Moon ...
... Grows from behind its black , clearedged bound , No spot of dark the fountain keepeth , But , swift as opening eyelids leapeth Into a waving silver flower . 1841 . THE MOON . My soul was like the sea , TO PERDITA , SINGING . 25 The Moon ...
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... grow in earth and heaven , A silence of deep awe and wondering ; For , listening gladly , bend the angels , even , To hear a mortal like an angel sing . III . Among the toil - worn poor my soul is seeking For one to bring the Maker's ...
... grow in earth and heaven , A silence of deep awe and wondering ; For , listening gladly , bend the angels , even , To hear a mortal like an angel sing . III . Among the toil - worn poor my soul is seeking For one to bring the Maker's ...
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... thrilled through with rosy light , Floating beneath the blue sky all alone , Her spirit wandered by itself , and won A golden edge from some unsetting sun . IV . The heart grows richer that its lot is A LEGEND OF BRITTANY . 51.
... thrilled through with rosy light , Floating beneath the blue sky all alone , Her spirit wandered by itself , and won A golden edge from some unsetting sun . IV . The heart grows richer that its lot is A LEGEND OF BRITTANY . 51.
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Complete in Two Volumes James Russell Lowell. IV . The heart grows richer that its lot is poor , - God blesses want ... grow ! O , how her voice , as with an inmate's right , Into the strangest heart would welcome go , And make it sweet ...
Complete in Two Volumes James Russell Lowell. IV . The heart grows richer that its lot is poor , - God blesses want ... grow ! O , how her voice , as with an inmate's right , Into the strangest heart would welcome go , And make it sweet ...
Страница 58
... grows white . XXVII . She thought of Tristrem and of Lancilot , Of all her dreams , and of kind fairies ' might , And how that dell was deemed a haunted spot , Until there grew a mist before her sight , And where the present was she ...
... grows white . XXVII . She thought of Tristrem and of Lancilot , Of all her dreams , and of kind fairies ' might , And how that dell was deemed a haunted spot , Until there grew a mist before her sight , And where the present was she ...
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angel heart art thou beauty beneath bless bliss blood blue breast calm Caucasus cloud cold dark dear death deep doth dread dream drops Dryad earth Eurydice evermore eyes face faith fall fear feel flowers forever Freedom glad gleam gloom glow God's golden green grew hair hands happy hath hear heaven hold in fee holy Holy Grail hope hushed KING ADMETUS leap leaves life's light lonely look man's meek mighty mighty heart moon Mordred murmur nature neath never night o'er Ostern peace pine poet's poor poor man's son Rhocus Rosaline round scorn seemed serene shadow shiver silence singing Sir Launfal smile song sorrow soul spirit stars summer sunshine sweet tears thee thine things thou art Thou hast thought thrill thunder toil trembling truth voice wandered waves weary wind wings
Популарни одломци
Страница 160 - Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side...
Страница 206 - My childhood's earliest thoughts are linked with thee ; The sight of thee calls back the robin's song, Who, from the dark old tree Beside the door, sang clearly all day long, And I, secure in childish piety, Listened as if I heard an angel sing With news from heaven, which he could bring Fresh every day to my untainted ears When birds and flowers and I were happy peers.
Страница 314 - The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, In whatso we share with another's need; Not what we give, but what we share, ! For the gift without the giver is bare; Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.
Страница 47 - What doth the poor man's son inherit" ? Wishes o'erjoyed with humble things, A rank adjudged by-toil-won merit, Content that from employment springs, A heart that in his labor sings ; A heritage, it seems to me, A king might wish to hold in fee.
Страница 96 - Which in the poet's tropic heart bear flowers Whose fragrance fills the earth. Within the hearts of all men lie These promises of wider bliss, Which blossom into hopes that cannot die, In sunny hours like this. All that hath been majestical In life or death, since time began, Is native in the simple heart of all, The angel heart of man.
Страница 115 - No man is born into the world, whose work Is not born with him ; there is always work, And tools to work withal, for those who will; And blessed are the horny hands of toil I The busy world shoves angrily aside The man who stands with arms akimbo set.
Страница 125 - MEN ! whose boast it is that ye Come of fathers brave and free, If there breathe on earth a slave, Are ye truly free and brave ? If ye do not feel the chain, When it works a brother's pain, Are ye not base slaves indeed, Slaves unworthy to be freed ? Women!
Страница 97 - 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...
Страница 161 - Careless seems the great Avenger; history's pages but record One death-grapple in the darkness 'twixt old systems and the Word; Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne, — Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown, Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own.
Страница 304 - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays; Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And...