American Poems (1625-1892)Walter Cochrane Bronson University of Chicago Press, 1912 - 669 страница |
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... pain : Art can do much ; but this maxime ' s most sure , A weak or wounded brain admits no cure . I am obnoxious to each carping tongue Who says my hand a needle better fits ; A Poets pen all scorn I should thus wrong , For such despite ...
... pain : Art can do much ; but this maxime ' s most sure , A weak or wounded brain admits no cure . I am obnoxious to each carping tongue Who says my hand a needle better fits ; A Poets pen all scorn I should thus wrong , For such despite ...
Страница 12
... pain and sweat of face , A penalty impos'd on his backsliding Race . Here sits our Grandame in retired place , And in her lap her bloody Cain new born ; The weeping Imp oft looks her in the face , Bewails his unknown hap and fate ...
... pain and sweat of face , A penalty impos'd on his backsliding Race . Here sits our Grandame in retired place , And in her lap her bloody Cain new born ; The weeping Imp oft looks her in the face , Bewails his unknown hap and fate ...
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... pain , 195 Each storm his state , his mind , his body break ; 200 From some of these he never finds cessation , But day or night , within , without , vexation , Troubles from foes , from friends , from dearest , near'st Relation . And ...
... pain , 195 Each storm his state , his mind , his body break ; 200 From some of these he never finds cessation , But day or night , within , without , vexation , Troubles from foes , from friends , from dearest , near'st Relation . And ...
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... same we Devils dispossest . We rais'd the dead , and ministred succour to the distrest . Our painful teaching & pow'rful preaching by thine own wondrous might 85 90 Did throughly win to God from sin many a wretched MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH 21.
... same we Devils dispossest . We rais'd the dead , and ministred succour to the distrest . Our painful teaching & pow'rful preaching by thine own wondrous might 85 90 Did throughly win to God from sin many a wretched MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH 21.
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... pain . 210 Who having all , both great and small , convinc'd and silenced , Did then proceed their Doom to read , and thus it uttered : 215 " Ye sinful wights and cursed sprights that work iniquity , Depart together from me for ever to ...
... pain . 210 Who having all , both great and small , convinc'd and silenced , Did then proceed their Doom to read , and thus it uttered : 215 " Ye sinful wights and cursed sprights that work iniquity , Depart together from me for ever to ...
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Страница 507 - He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored ; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps; I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps: His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel, writ in...
Страница 211 - To Helen Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome. Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The agate lamp within thy hand! Ah, Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy Land! Israfel And the angel...
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Страница 221 - I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...
Страница 558 - But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart; And passing even into my purer mind. With tranquil restoration...
Страница 220 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,— " Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore !" Quoth the Raven,
Страница 221 - Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door, Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore.
Страница 228 - With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago. In this kingdom by the sea...
Страница 227 - Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan.
Страница 507 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.