The Poets and Poetry of AmericaParry and McMillan, 1855 - 622 Seiten |
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Seite 26
... gentle breezes fan the air . " Here the light deer still take their round , And o'er the fruitful valley's bound ; Here purer streams alive I find , With finny swarms of every kind ; The woods with feather'd life abound Of every size ...
... gentle breezes fan the air . " Here the light deer still take their round , And o'er the fruitful valley's bound ; Here purer streams alive I find , With finny swarms of every kind ; The woods with feather'd life abound Of every size ...
Seite 42
... gentle Sleep ! Balm of my wounds and softener of my woes , And lull my weary heart in sweet repose , And bid my sadden'd soul forget to weep , And close the tearful eye ; While dewy eve , with solemn sweep , Hath drawn her fleecy mantle ...
... gentle Sleep ! Balm of my wounds and softener of my woes , And lull my weary heart in sweet repose , And bid my sadden'd soul forget to weep , And close the tearful eye ; While dewy eve , with solemn sweep , Hath drawn her fleecy mantle ...
Seite 53
... gentle ardour press'd , Pour'd soft emotions through the heaving breast ; In magic transport heart with heart entwined , And in sweet languor lost the melting mind . ' T was then thy voice , attuned to wisdom's lay , Show'd fairer ...
... gentle ardour press'd , Pour'd soft emotions through the heaving breast ; In magic transport heart with heart entwined , And in sweet languor lost the melting mind . ' T was then thy voice , attuned to wisdom's lay , Show'd fairer ...
Seite 56
... gentle lapse of ever - murmuring rills , The soft repose amid the noontide bowers , The evening walk among the blushing flowers , The fragrant groves , that yield a sweet perfume , And vernal glories in perpetual bloom Await you there ...
... gentle lapse of ever - murmuring rills , The soft repose amid the noontide bowers , The evening walk among the blushing flowers , The fragrant groves , that yield a sweet perfume , And vernal glories in perpetual bloom Await you there ...
Seite 88
... gentle language of Eve , 66 Thus spake from her chariot the fairy so fair : I come at the call , but , oh Paint - King , beware , Beware if again you deceive . " " " T is true , " said the monster , " thou queen of my Thy portrait I oft ...
... gentle language of Eve , 66 Thus spake from her chariot the fairy so fair : I come at the call , but , oh Paint - King , beware , Beware if again you deceive . " " " T is true , " said the monster , " thou queen of my Thy portrait I oft ...
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
ANNABEL LEE art thou beam beauty beneath bird blue born bosom breast breath breeze bright brow charm clouds dark dead death deep dream earth evermore fair fear feel flowers forest friends gaze gentle gleam glorious glory glow grace grave green hand Harvard College hast hath hear heart heaven hills holy hour land leaves life's light lips living lonely look LOUIS LEGRAND lyre morning mountain muse N. P. WILLIS Nashaway ne'er never night o'er pale pass'd Phi Beta Kappa PHILIP PENDLETON COOKE poems poet rills Rio Bravo round scene seem'd shade shadows shine shore sigh silent sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou art thought throne tree voice wave wild wind wings woods Yale College youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 172 - All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom...
Seite 476 - Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door: — Darkness there and nothing more.
Seite 171 - 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 182 - 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 362 - THE RAINY DAY. THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast And the days are dark and dreary.
Seite 357 - Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals nor forts : The warrior's name would be a name abhorred ! And every nation that should lift again Its hand against a brother, on its forehead Would wear forevermore the curse of Cain!
Seite 470 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we, Of many far wiser than we ; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
Seite 172 - 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 favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Seite 173 - Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower, With scented breath, and look so like a smile, Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, An emanation of the indwelling Life, A visible token of the upholding Love, That are the soul of this wide universe.
Seite 218 - AT midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power ; In dreams, through camp and court, he bore The trophies of a conqueror ; In dreams his song of triumph heard. Then wore his monarch's signet ring, Then pressed that monarch's throne — a King ; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird.