The Poetical Works of James Russell LowellHoughton, Osgood, 1879 - 422 страница |
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Страница 11
... Poet's song with blood - warm truth was rife ; He saw the mysteries which circle under The outward shell and skin of daily life . Nothing to him were fleeting time and fashion , His soul was led by the eternal law ; There was in him no ...
... Poet's song with blood - warm truth was rife ; He saw the mysteries which circle under The outward shell and skin of daily life . Nothing to him were fleeting time and fashion , His soul was led by the eternal law ; There was in him no ...
Страница 12
... Poet is an empty rhymer Who lies with idle elbow on the grass , And fits his singing , like a cunning timer , To all men's prides and fancies as they pass . Not his the song , which , in its metre holy , Chimes with the music of the ...
... Poet is an empty rhymer Who lies with idle elbow on the grass , And fits his singing , like a cunning timer , To all men's prides and fancies as they pass . Not his the song , which , in its metre holy , Chimes with the music of the ...
Страница 16
... poet Gazing on the roaring sea , " Take this rose , " he sighed , " and throw it Where there's none that loveth me . On the rock the billow bursteth And sinks back into the seas , But in vain my spirit thirsteth So to burst and be at ...
... poet Gazing on the roaring sea , " Take this rose , " he sighed , " and throw it Where there's none that loveth me . On the rock the billow bursteth And sinks back into the seas , But in vain my spirit thirsteth So to burst and be at ...
Страница 20
... poets prate , Dwell we apart above the tide of things , High floating o'er earth's clouds on faery wings ; But our pure ... poet's agonies , Neglect and scorn , which seem a certain doom : Yes ! the few words which , like great thunder ...
... poets prate , Dwell we apart above the tide of things , High floating o'er earth's clouds on faery wings ; But our pure ... poet's agonies , Neglect and scorn , which seem a certain doom : Yes ! the few words which , like great thunder ...
Страница 21
... poets rhyme it as they will ; The seasons toil that it may blow again , And summer's heart doth feel its every ill ; Nor is a true soul ever born for naught ; Wherever any such hath lived and died , There hath been something for true ...
... poets rhyme it as they will ; The seasons toil that it may blow again , And summer's heart doth feel its every ill ; Nor is a true soul ever born for naught ; Wherever any such hath lived and died , There hath been something for true ...
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afore agin ain't aint airth arter Auf wiedersehen beauty bein Ben Jonson Biglow bobolink brain Clotho dark deep divine doth dream earth England eyes faith fancy feel feller folks fust give God's gret hand hath hear heart heaven heerd hope idee Jaalam John Bull ketch kind larn leaves letters life's light lives look mind Muse nature neath never nigger night nothin o'er ollers once poet poor preterite rhyme round Sawin sech seemed silent sing Sir Launfal song soul spiles spirit sunshine sure sweet tell thee there's thet thet's thine things thou thought thout thru tion tree truth turn twixt verse warn't Wilbur wind word wun't wuth Yankee YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY
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Страница 380 - Great captains, with their guns and drums, Disturb our judgment for the hour, But at last silence comes; These all' are gone, and, standing like a tower, Our children shall behold his fame. The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man, Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, New birth of our new soil, the first American.
Страница 106 - Tis the natural way of living: Who knows whither the clouds have fled? In the unscarred heaven they leave no wake; And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, The heart forgets its sorrow and ache...
Страница 105 - To be some happy creature's palace ; The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives ; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest, — In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best...
Страница 105 - And what is so rare as a day in June ? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the 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, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
Страница 64 - WHEN a deed is done for Freedom, through the broad earth's aching breast Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east to west, And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the soul within him climb To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sublime Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the thorny stem of Time.
Страница 79 - He's true to God who's true to man ; wherever wrong is done, To the humblest and the weakest, neath the allbeholding sun, That wrong is also done to us ; and they are slaves most base, Whose love of right is for themselves, and not for all their race.
Страница 380 - Nature, they say, doth dote, And cannot make a man Save on some worn-out plan, Repeating us by rote: For him her Old-World moulds aside she threw, And, choosing sweet clay from the breast Of the unexhausted West, With stuff untainted shaped a hero new, Wise, steadfast in the strength of God, and true.
Страница 221 - Mebby to mean yes an' say no Comes nateral to women. He stood a spell on one foot fust, Then stood a spell on t' other, An' on which one he felt the wust He could n't ha' told ye nuther. Says he, "I'd better call agin"; Says she, "Think likely, Mister"; Thet last word pricked him like a pin, An' . . . Wai, he up an
Страница 330 - THE snow had begun in the gloaming, And busily all the night Had been heaping field and highway With a silence deep and white. Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, And the poorest twig on the elm-tree Was ridged inch deep with pearl.
Страница 79 - DEAR common flower, that grow'st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold, High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they An Eldorado in the grass have found, Which not the rich earth's ample round May match in wealth, thou art more dear to me Than all the prouder summer-blooms may be.