A Treasury of American VerseWalter Learned F.A. Stokes Company, 1897 - 307 Seiten |
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Seite 28
... laughed , " This brings Me chance , at last , to see if men Fare better , being kings . " The king sat bowed beneath his crown , Propping his face with listless hand ; Watching the hour - glass sifting down Too slow its shining sand ...
... laughed , " This brings Me chance , at last , to see if men Fare better , being kings . " The king sat bowed beneath his crown , Propping his face with listless hand ; Watching the hour - glass sifting down Too slow its shining sand ...
Seite 29
... laughed , I ween , The laugh that free men know . On the king's gate the moss grew gray ; The king came not . They called him dead ; And made his eldest son one day Slave in his father's stead . HELEN HUNT JACKSON . HYMN . ( Sung at the ...
... laughed , I ween , The laugh that free men know . On the king's gate the moss grew gray ; The king came not . They called him dead ; And made his eldest son one day Slave in his father's stead . HELEN HUNT JACKSON . HYMN . ( Sung at the ...
Seite 35
... laughing face That met his over the brink . The eyes were sunny and clear , And the brow undimmed by care , While from under the rim of the old straw hat Strayed curls of chestnut hair . He turned away with a sigh ; Nor could footman or ...
... laughing face That met his over the brink . The eyes were sunny and clear , And the brow undimmed by care , While from under the rim of the old straw hat Strayed curls of chestnut hair . He turned away with a sigh ; Nor could footman or ...
Seite 40
... laughs an ' tells him all I said , An ' grabs me up an ' pats my head ; An ' I hug her , an ' hug my Pa An ' love him purt ' nigh much as Ma . JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY . WHEN SHE COMES HOME . WHEN she comes home again 40 A Treasury of ...
... laughs an ' tells him all I said , An ' grabs me up an ' pats my head ; An ' I hug her , an ' hug my Pa An ' love him purt ' nigh much as Ma . JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY . WHEN SHE COMES HOME . WHEN she comes home again 40 A Treasury of ...
Seite 43
... d with vines , She glows and shines Among her future oils and wines . Her children , hid The cliffs amid , Are gambolling with the gambolling kid ; Or down the walls , With tipsy calls , Laugh A Treasury of American Verse . 43.
... d with vines , She glows and shines Among her future oils and wines . Her children , hid The cliffs amid , Are gambolling with the gambolling kid ; Or down the walls , With tipsy calls , Laugh A Treasury of American Verse . 43.
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
angels Annabel Lee beautiful Ben Bolt bloom blue breast breath bright brow child CLINTON SCOLLARD cold dark days gone dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair feet fell flowers Forever-never gate GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP gleaming grass gray grew hair hand hath hear heart heaven HELEN HUNT JACKSON HENRY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL kiss land laugh life's light lips little boy live LONGFELLOW look maiden meadows mother never Never-forever night o'er poems rain rest RICHARD HENRY STODDARD rose round sail shadow sheepfol shining shore sigh silent sing sleep smile snow soft song sorrow soul Speak gently stars stood sweet Symphorien T. B. ALDRICH tears tell thee There's thine THOMAS BUCHANAN READ thou thought tree Twas voice WALTER LEARNED watch waves weary wind woods youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 274 - And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said, " They are gone." The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom, And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb.
Seite 150 - 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 197 - He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat; Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant my feet! Our God is marching on.
Seite 154 - 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 126 - Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the Northeast, The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast. Down came the storm, and smote amain The vessel in its strength; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cable's length.
Seite 14 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an Eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist; A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Seite 220 - My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells! But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
Seite 80 - IT was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE ; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.
Seite 131 - Till the sun groivs cold, And the stars are old, And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold!
Seite 174 - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new. Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more. Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap, forlorn! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn!