The Courtship of Miles Standish, and Minor Poems

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[The] MacMillan Company, 1918 - 248 Seiten

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Seite 97 - Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow ; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door...
Seite 68 - TELL me not, in mournful numbers, "Life is but an empty dream!" — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! ; And the grave is not its goal; "Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Seite 143 - We know what Master laid thy keel, What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Seite 155 - ALL are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time ; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low ; Each thing in its place is best ; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest.
Seite 72 - WHEN the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight; Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fire-light Dance upon the parlor wall; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more...
Seite 94 - Last night, the moon had a golden ring. And to-night no moon we see !" The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, And a scornful laugh laughed he.
Seite 75 - Flowers ; In all places, then, and in all seasons, Flowers expand their light and soul-like wings, Teaching us, by most persuasive reasons, How akin they are to human things.
Seite 121 - I saw her bright reflection In the waters under me, Like a golden goblet falling And sinking into the sea. And far in the hazy distance Of that lovely night in June, The blaze of the flaming furnace Gleamed redder than the moon.
Seite 142 - ... gesture of command, Waved his hand ; And at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard, All around them and below, The sound of hammers, blow on blow, Knocking away the shores and spurs. And see ! she stirs ! She starts, — she moves, — she seems to feel The thrill of life along her keel, And, spurning with her foot the ground, With one exulting, joyous bound, She leaps into the ocean's arms...
Seite 190 - A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.' I remember the gleams and glooms that dart Across the school-boy's brain; The song and the silence in the heart, That in part are prophecies, and in part Are longings wild and vain. And the voice of that fitful song 60 Sings on, and is never still: 'A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.

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