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Страница 89 - Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
Страница 89 - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil ; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.
Страница 89 - Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap forlorn ! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn...
Страница 88 - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main, — The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.
Страница 137 - They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters ; These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.
Страница 134 - When winds are raging o'er the upper ocean, And billows wild contend with angry roar, 'Tis said, far down, beneath the wild commotion, That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore.
Страница 135 - Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain : Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters : who maketh the clouds his chariot ; who walketh upon the wings of the wind...
Страница 92 - THE sea is a jovial comrade, He laughs wherever he goes; His merriment shines in the dimpling lines That wrinkle his hale repose ; He lays himself down at the feet of the Sun, And shakes all over with glee, And the broad-backed billows fall faint on the shore, In the mirth of the mighty Sea...
Страница 2 - And Nature, the old nurse, took The child upon her knee, Saying: "Here is a story-book Thy Father has written for thee." "Come, wander with me," she said, "Into regions yet untrod; And read what is still unread In the manuscripts of God.
Страница 72 - ... the traceries of intricate silver, and fringes of amber, lustrous, arborescent, burnished through every fibre into fitful brightness and glossy traverses of silken change, yet all subdued and pensive, and framed for simplest, sweetest offices of grace...