Voices of the Night, and Other PoemsTicknor, Reed, and Fields, 1852 - 228 páginas |
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... blast , Bent like a reed each mast . " BIRKET FOSTER . 103 BIRKET FOSTER , 105 XXIX . " And in the forest's shade Our vows were plighted . " BIRKET FOSTER . 108 ΧΧΧ , " The breakers were right beneath her bows , She drifted a dreary ...
... blast , Bent like a reed each mast . " BIRKET FOSTER . 103 BIRKET FOSTER , 105 XXIX . " And in the forest's shade Our vows were plighted . " BIRKET FOSTER . 108 ΧΧΧ , " The breakers were right beneath her bows , She drifted a dreary ...
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... blast ; Our hopes , like withered leaves , fall fast ; Pallid lips say , ' It is past ! We can return no more ! ' " Look , then , into thine heart , and write ! Yes , into Life's deep stream ! All forms of sorrow and delight , All ...
... blast ; Our hopes , like withered leaves , fall fast ; Pallid lips say , ' It is past ! We can return no more ! ' " Look , then , into thine heart , and write ! Yes , into Life's deep stream ! All forms of sorrow and delight , All ...
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... there shall come a mightier blast , There shall be a darker day ; And the stars , from heaven down - cast , Like red leaves be swept away ! Kyrie , eleyson ! Christe , eleyson ! Boster L'ENVOI . YE voices , that arose After the Evening's.
... there shall come a mightier blast , There shall be a darker day ; And the stars , from heaven down - cast , Like red leaves be swept away ! Kyrie , eleyson ! Christe , eleyson ! Boster L'ENVOI . YE voices , that arose After the Evening's.
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... blast , Pressing down upon sail and mast , Might not the sharp bows overwhelm ; Broad in the beam , but sloping aft With graceful curve and slow degrees , That she might be docile to the helm , And that the currents of parted seas ...
... blast , Pressing down upon sail and mast , Might not the sharp bows overwhelm ; Broad in the beam , but sloping aft With graceful curve and slow degrees , That she might be docile to the helm , And that the currents of parted seas ...
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... blast ! And at the bows an image stood , By a cunning artist carved in wood , With robes of white , that far behind Seemed to be fluttering in the wind . It was not shaped in a classic mould , Not like a Nymph or Goddess of old , Or ...
... blast ! And at the bows an image stood , By a cunning artist carved in wood , With robes of white , that far behind Seemed to be fluttering in the wind . It was not shaped in a classic mould , Not like a Nymph or Goddess of old , Or ...
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Termos e frases comuns
Albrecht Dürer arms beautiful behold belfry BELFRY OF BRUGES bell beneath BENHAM birds BIRKET FOSTER blast blows wild bows breast breath bright Bruges child Christ Chrysaor clouds dark dead Death deep dreams earth Euroclydon Excelsior eyes fair fear flow flowers forest Forever-never gaze gentle gleam golden gray Guy de Dampierre hand hear heard heart heaven holy JANE JANE E knarred land Learn to labour leaves Life's loud maiden mast Master Shakes midnight Minnesingers moon Never-forever night numbers Nuremberg o'er ocean POEMS prayer QUADROON rain REAPER red planet Mars restless heart rising river roar rock round sail saint sand Sang shadows shining ship silent silver singing skies snow soft solemn song sorrow soul sound spake stands stood strong sweet tears thee thou thought toil tower trees twilight unto vessel village voice wave wild wind wings wondrous woodland woods youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 159 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Página 61 - Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken The bond which nature gives, Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken, May reach her where she lives. Not as a child shall we again behold her ; For when with raptures wild In our 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.
Página 44 - Then the Master, With a 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!
Página 120 - 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.
Página 121 - And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Página 161 - Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought ! ENDYMION.
Página 115 - The breakers were right beneath her bows, She drifted a dreary wreck, And a whooping billow swept the crew Like icicles from her deck. She struck where the white and fleecy waves Looked soft as carded wool, But the cruel rocks, they gored her side Like the horns of an angry bull.
Página 181 - There in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay, And from the sky, serene and far, A voice fell, like a falling star — Excelsior!
Página 106 - Wrapt not in Eastern balms, But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms, Why dost thou haunt me ?" Then, from those cavernous eyes Pale flashes seemed to rise, As when the Northern skies Gleam in December; And, like the water's flow Under December's snow, Came a dull voice of woe From the heart's chamber. "I was a Viking old ! My deeds, though manifold, No Skald in song has told, No Saga taught thee! Take heed, that in thy verse Thou dost the tale rehearse, Else dread a dead man's curse...
Página 113 - Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May. The skipper he stood beside the helm, His pipe was in his mouth, And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now West, now South.