Poems, Band 1D. Appleton, 1855 - 264 Seiten |
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Seite 5
... who stamped our race With his own image , and who gave them sway O'er earth , and the glad dwellers on her face , Now that our swarming nations far away Are spread , where'er the moist earth drinks the day THE AGES . 5.
... who stamped our race With his own image , and who gave them sway O'er earth , and the glad dwellers on her face , Now that our swarming nations far away Are spread , where'er the moist earth drinks the day THE AGES . 5.
Seite 7
... face ; - When , from the genial cradle of our race , Went forth the tribes of men , their pleasant lot To choose , where palm - groves cooled their dwelling - place , Or freshening rivers ran ; and there forgot The truth of heaven , and ...
... face ; - When , from the genial cradle of our race , Went forth the tribes of men , their pleasant lot To choose , where palm - groves cooled their dwelling - place , Or freshening rivers ran ; and there forgot The truth of heaven , and ...
Seite 45
... face , And gaze upon thee in silent dream , For in thy lonely and lovely stream An image of that calm life appears That won my heart in my greener years . A WINTER PIECE . THE time has been that these GREEN RIVER . 45.
... face , And gaze upon thee in silent dream , For in thy lonely and lovely stream An image of that calm life appears That won my heart in my greener years . A WINTER PIECE . THE time has been that these GREEN RIVER . 45.
Seite 56
William Cullen Bryant. Ah ! thou art like our wayward race ; — When not a shade of pain or ill Dims the bright smile of Nature's face , Thou lov'st to sigh and murmur still . THE BURIAL - PLACE . A FRAGMENT . EREWHILE , 56 POEMS .
William Cullen Bryant. Ah ! thou art like our wayward race ; — When not a shade of pain or ill Dims the bright smile of Nature's face , Thou lov'st to sigh and murmur still . THE BURIAL - PLACE . A FRAGMENT . EREWHILE , 56 POEMS .
Seite 68
... face The warrior generations came and passed , And glory was laid up for many an age to last . Now they are gone , gone as thy setting blaze Goes down the west , while night is press- ing on , And with them the old tale of better days ...
... face The warrior generations came and passed , And glory was laid up for many an age to last . Now they are gone , gone as thy setting blaze Goes down the west , while night is press- ing on , And with them the old tale of better days ...
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
ages amid beam beauty beneath bird blood bloom blossoms blue boughs breath bright brook calm CHRE clouds cold dark Day of Fire day-dawn Deadly assassin death deep dwell earth fair flowers forest frown gaze gentle glad glen glides glorious glory grave Greece green groves guilt hand hath hear hear my song heart heaven hills hour hues hymn insect wings land leaves light little hour look lovely stream maid maiden maize Maquon mighty mountain murmur night o'er pass path peace pleasant pure quiet race realm rill Rizpah rocks round scene shade shalt thou shine sight silent skies smile soft song sparkles of light spirit Stockbridge stream summer sunny sweet tears thee thine thou art thou dost Thou shalt trees tribes vale valley stream voice wander weep wild wind-flower winds wings woods youth youthful voices
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 25 - 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 28 - So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure? All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Seite 39 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Seite 207 - Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? Alas ! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again.
Seite 29 - When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee. As the long train Of ages...
Seite 41 - Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet, on my heart Deeply has 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.
Seite 173 - Father, thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns, thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose All these fair ranks of trees.
Seite 106 - Ah, passing few are they who speak, Wild stormy month ! in praise of thee ; Yet, though thy winds are loud and bleak, Thou art a welcome month to me. For thou, to northern lands again, The glad and glorious sun dost bring, And thou hast joined the gentle train And wear'st the gentle name of Spring. And, in thy reign of blast and storm, Smiles many a long, bright, sunny day, When the changed winds are soft and warm, And heaven puts on the blue of May.
Seite 62 - There is a day of sunny rest For every dark and troubled night ; And grief may bide an evening guest, But joy shall come with early light.
Seite 185 - But if, around my place of sleep, The friends I love should come to weep, They might not haste to go. Soft airs, and song, and light, and bloom, Should keep them lingering by my tomb.