The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth LongfellowGall & Inglis, 1865 - 700 Seiten |
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Seite 2
... rose an avenue Of tall and sombrous pines ; Abroad their fan - like branches grew , And , where the sunshine darted through , Spread a vapour soft and blue , In long and sloping lines . And , falling on my weary brain , Like a fast ...
... rose an avenue Of tall and sombrous pines ; Abroad their fan - like branches grew , And , where the sunshine darted through , Spread a vapour soft and blue , In long and sloping lines . And , falling on my weary brain , Like a fast ...
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... rose and fell On the alarmèd air . Down the broad valley , fast and far , The troubled army fled ; Up rose the glorious morning star , The ghastly host was dead . I have read , in the marvellous heart of man , That strange and mystic ...
... rose and fell On the alarmèd air . Down the broad valley , fast and far , The troubled army fled ; Up rose the glorious morning star , The ghastly host was dead . I have read , in the marvellous heart of man , That strange and mystic ...
Seite 9
... rose and fell On the alarmèd air . Down the broad valley , fast and far , The troubled army fled ; Up rose the glorious morning star , The ghastly host was dead . I have read , in the marvellous heart of man , That strange and mystic ...
... rose and fell On the alarmèd air . Down the broad valley , fast and far , The troubled army fled ; Up rose the glorious morning star , The ghastly host was dead . I have read , in the marvellous heart of man , That strange and mystic ...
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... Rose the blue hills . One cloud of white , Around a far uplifted cone , In the warm blush of evening shone ; An image of the silver lakes , By which the Indian's soul awakes . COPLAS DE MANRIQUE . O LET the soul her slumbers BURIAL OF ...
... Rose the blue hills . One cloud of white , Around a far uplifted cone , In the warm blush of evening shone ; An image of the silver lakes , By which the Indian's soul awakes . COPLAS DE MANRIQUE . O LET the soul her slumbers BURIAL OF ...
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... rose ; God lead it to its long repose , Its glorious rest ! And though the warrior's sun has set , Its light shall linger round us yet , Bright , radiant , blest . THE BROOK . FROM THE SPANISH . LAUGH of the mountain ! -lyre of bird and ...
... rose ; God lead it to its long repose , Its glorious rest ! And though the warrior's sun has set , Its light shall linger round us yet , Bright , radiant , blest . THE BROOK . FROM THE SPANISH . LAUGH of the mountain ! -lyre of bird and ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Angel answered arms beautiful bell beneath birds breath bright bring called close clouds comes dark dead death deep door dream earth Enter eyes face fair fall father fear feel feet fell fire flowers follow forest Friar give gleam golden grave hand head hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha holy hope King land Laughing leaves light listen living look loud maiden morning never night o'er once passed play Pray prayer Prec Prince Henry rest rise river rose round sail sang seemed shadow shining side silent singing sleep song soul sound speak spirit stand stars stood strong sweet Take thee things thou thought Till unto Vict village voice wait wall wandered waves wild wind young youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 285 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
Seite 124 - Tis of the wave and not the rock; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore. Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.
Seite 52 - 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. "Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale That ever wind did blow.
Seite 52 - Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!' 'O father! I see a gleaming light, O say, what may it be?' But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he. Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, With his face turned to the skies, The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow On his fixed and glassy eyes. Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be; And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave, On the Lake of Galilee.
Seite 4 - 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 93 - Come, read to me some .poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavour ; And to-night I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from...
Seite 128 - ... embraces we again enfold her, She will not be a child; But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion, Clothed with celestial grace ; And beautiful with all the soul's expansion Shall we behold her face. And though at times impetuous with emotion And anguish long suppressed. The swelling heart...
Seite 343 - Such an old moustache as I am Is not a match for you all ! I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon In the round-tower of my heart. And there will I keep you forever, Yes, forever and a day, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, And moulder in dust away ! 346 ENCELADUS.
Seite 36 - RETRIBUTION. THOUGH the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small ; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
Seite 307 - All is well!" A moment only he feels the spell Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread Of the lonely belfry and the dead; For suddenly all his thoughts are bent On a shadowy something far away, Where the river widens to meet the bay — A line of black that bends and floats On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats.