Poems

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Harper & brothers, 1836 - 274 Seiten

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Seite 266 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way...
Seite 267 - Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near. And soon that toil shall end ; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend, Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet, on my heart Deeply...
Seite 204 - Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue, That openest, when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night; Thou comest not when violets lean O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen, Or columbines in purple dressed, Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest. Thou waitest late, and com'st alone, When woods are bare, and birds are flown, And frosts and shortening days portend The aged Year is near his end. Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye Look through its fringes...
Seite 33 - Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
Seite 124 - Tis life to feel the night-wind That lifts his tossing mane. A moment in the British camp — A moment — and away, Back to the pathless forest Before the peep of day. Grave men there are by broad Santee, Grave men with hoary hairs; Their hearts are all with Marion, For Marion are their prayers. And lovely ladies greet our band With kindliest welcoming, With smiles like those of summer, And tears like those of spring. For them we wear these trusty arms, And lay them down no more Till we have driven...
Seite 257 - THE melancholy days are come, The saddest of the year, Of wailing winds and naked woods, And meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, The autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, And to the rabbit's tread ; The robin and the wren are flown, And from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow Through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers...
Seite 123 - Woe to the English soldiery That little dread us near! On them shall light at midnight A strange and sudden fear; When, waking to their tents on fire, They grasp their arms in vain, And they who stand to face us Are beat to earth again ; And they who fly in terror deem A mighty host behind, And hear the tramp of thousands Upon the hollow wind.
Seite 39 - Which, from the stilly twilight of the place, And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound Of the invisible breath that swayed at once All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed His spirit with the thought of boundless power And inaccessible majesty.
Seite 31 - To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Seite 39 - ... boughs, and from the sound Of the invisible breath that swayed at once All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed His spirit with the thought of boundless Power And inaccessible Majesty. Ah, why Should we in the world's riper years neglect God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd, and under roofs That our frail hands have raised ! Let me, at least, Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, Offer one hymn — thrice happy, if it find Acceptance in his ear. Father, thy hand Hath...

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