Songs of Three CenturiesJohn Greenleaf Whittier Houghton, Mifflin, 1890 - 383 страница |
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Страница 69
... dream that thou art she . My mother ! when I learned that thou wast dead , Say , wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son , Wretch even then , life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gav'st me ...
... dream that thou art she . My mother ! when I learned that thou wast dead , Say , wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son , Wretch even then , life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gav'st me ...
Страница 91
... dream of pain , With joy its mortal feelings to re- sign ; Yet all its living essence to retain , The undying energy of strength divine ! To quit the burdens of its earthly days , To give to nature all her borrowed powers , Ethereal ...
... dream of pain , With joy its mortal feelings to re- sign ; Yet all its living essence to retain , The undying energy of strength divine ! To quit the burdens of its earthly days , To give to nature all her borrowed powers , Ethereal ...
Страница 97
... dream . It is not now as it hath been of yore ; - The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep , No more shall grief of mine the season wrong : I hear the echoes through the mountains throng , The winds come to me from the fields of ...
... dream . It is not now as it hath been of yore ; - The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep , No more shall grief of mine the season wrong : I hear the echoes through the mountains throng , The winds come to me from the fields of ...
Страница 98
... dream ? Our birth is but a sleep and a forget- ting : The soul that rises with us , our life's star , Hath had elsewhere its setting , And cometh from afar ; Not in entire forgetfulness , And not in utter nakedness , But trailing clouds ...
... dream ? Our birth is but a sleep and a forget- ting : The soul that rises with us , our life's star , Hath had elsewhere its setting , And cometh from afar ; Not in entire forgetfulness , And not in utter nakedness , But trailing clouds ...
Страница 102
... dream , I would have planted thee , thou hoary pile , Amid a world how different from this ! Beside a sea that could not cease to smile ; On tranquil land , beneath a sky of bliss . A picture had it been of lasting ease , Elysian quiet ...
... dream , I would have planted thee , thou hoary pile , Amid a world how different from this ! Beside a sea that could not cease to smile ; On tranquil land , beneath a sky of bliss . A picture had it been of lasting ease , Elysian quiet ...
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angel beauty bells beneath bird blessed bliss bonnie breast breath bright brow busk calm cheek Christabel clouds dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth Edom evermore eyes face fair fear flowers frae Glenlogie glory golden grave green Grongar Hill hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill holy hope hour Inchcape Rock Jackdaw JOHN KEATS Kilmeny kissed lady land lassie light lips live Lochaber lonely look Lord maun morning never night o'er pale praise prayer rest river Lee rose round Saint Agnes SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE shade shine shore sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars stream sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thought tree vale voice wandering waves weary ween weep wild WILLIAM WORDSWORTH wind wings Yarrow
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Страница 17 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Страница 17 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Страница 18 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Страница 202 - Hear the sledges with the bells, Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells.' How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars, that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells — From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
Страница 99 - I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee: A Poet could not but...
Страница 99 - The clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober coloring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality : Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, — To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Страница 18 - Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Страница 153 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him. But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring ; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Страница 61 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of Mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious Truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous Shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Страница 187 - rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart : He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright.