Select PoemsE. C. & J. Biddle, 1845 - 338 páginas |
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Resultados 1-5 de 23
Página 19
... bold step the field of battle trod ; And holy men , who fed the flock of God . poor , Here , ' mid the graves by time so sacred made , The lost Indian slumbers in the shade ; - He , whose canoe with arrowy swiftness clave , In ancient ...
... bold step the field of battle trod ; And holy men , who fed the flock of God . poor , Here , ' mid the graves by time so sacred made , The lost Indian slumbers in the shade ; - He , whose canoe with arrowy swiftness clave , In ancient ...
Página 22
... bold Orion , with thy lion - shield ; What tidings from the chase ? what monster slain ? Runn'st thou a tilt with Taurus ? or dost rear Thy weapon for more stately tournament ? " Twere better , sure , to be a son of peace Among those ...
... bold Orion , with thy lion - shield ; What tidings from the chase ? what monster slain ? Runn'st thou a tilt with Taurus ? or dost rear Thy weapon for more stately tournament ? " Twere better , sure , to be a son of peace Among those ...
Página 38
... bold , serene ? Ah no ! the scroll of time Is sealed ; and hope sublime Rests , but on those far heights , which mortals may not climb . The dying prayer , with trembling fervour , speeds For that false monarch by whose will she bleeds ...
... bold , serene ? Ah no ! the scroll of time Is sealed ; and hope sublime Rests , but on those far heights , which mortals may not climb . The dying prayer , with trembling fervour , speeds For that false monarch by whose will she bleeds ...
Página 63
... bold Emigrant , and by his side His little son , with question and response , Beguil'd the toil . " Boy , thou hast never seen Such glorious trees . Hark , when their giant trunks Fall , how the firm earth groans . Rememberest thou The ...
... bold Emigrant , and by his side His little son , with question and response , Beguil'd the toil . " Boy , thou hast never seen Such glorious trees . Hark , when their giant trunks Fall , how the firm earth groans . Rememberest thou The ...
Página 89
... bold they venture near , dipping their wing In all thy mist and foam . Perchance ' tis meet For them to touch thy garment's hem , or stir Thy diamond wreath , who sport upon the cloud , Unblam'd , or warble at the gate of heaven Without ...
... bold they venture near , dipping their wing In all thy mist and foam . Perchance ' tis meet For them to touch thy garment's hem , or stir Thy diamond wreath , who sport upon the cloud , Unblam'd , or warble at the gate of heaven Without ...
Conteúdo
177 | |
183 | |
189 | |
196 | |
203 | |
210 | |
225 | |
232 | |
70 | |
77 | |
84 | |
86 | |
94 | |
103 | |
110 | |
118 | |
126 | |
133 | |
140 | |
146 | |
152 | |
158 | |
164 | |
171 | |
241 | |
248 | |
255 | |
261 | |
268 | |
277 | |
284 | |
288 | |
294 | |
301 | |
307 | |
315 | |
323 | |
329 | |
336 | |
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Termos e frases comuns
amid angel angel's song arms art thou babe baptism beauty bless blest bloom bold bosom breast breath bright brow celestial sphere cheek cheerful cold cradle dark dead dear death deep didst dost doth dream drest earth eternal fade fair faith fear flowers fond gathered glorious grave hand Hast thou hath heart Heaven Heaven's gate hoarse holy hope Hopia hour infant lisping lone lyre meek Methinks midnight midnight hour MOHEGAN morn mother mournful muse neath o'er pale Perchance pomp praise prayer pride proud pure rest robe rose round Saviour's scroll seraph silent sire sleep smile song sorrow soul spake spirit spread strong sublime sweet swell tear tempest tender thee thine thou hast thought throne toil tomb tone tread trembling Twas twill vale voice wave weary wild wing wintry young Zarephath
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 259 - Ye say their cone-like cabins, That clustered o'er the vale, Have fled away like withered leaves Before the autumn gale ; But their memory liveth on your hills, Their baptism on your shore, Your everlasting rivers speak Their dialect of yore.
Página vii - I expect neither profit nor general fame by my writings; and I consider myself as having been amply repaid without either. Poetry has been to me its own " exceeding great reward ; " it has soothed my afflictions ; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments ; it has endeared solitude ; and it has given me the habit of wishing to discover the Good and the Beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me...
Página 282 - And Methuselah lived after he begat Lamech seven hundred eighty and two years, and begat sons and daughters: 27 And all the days of Methuselah were nine hundred sixty and nine years: and he died.
Página 309 - And, as the transient flower of grass, Just blossom — droop, and die; But for a being without end, This vow of love we take; Grant us, O God! one home at last, For our Redeemer's sake.
Página 70 - DEEP Solitude I sought. There was a dell Where woven shades shut out the eye of day, While, towering near, the rugged mountains made Dark back-ground 'gainst the sky. Thither I went, And bade my spirit taste that lonely fount, For which it long had thirsted 'mid the strife And fever of the world.
Página 243 - With blessings on thy head; Fresh roses in thy hand, Buds on thy pillow laid, Haste from this fearful land, Where flowers so quickly fade.
Página 65 - Twas even so. Thy heart was with the halls Of thy nativity. Their sparkling lights, Carpets, and sofas, and admiring guests, Befit thee better than these rugged walls Of shapeless logs, and this lone hermit home.
Página 265 - Ye build — ye build — but ye enter not in, Like the tribes whom the desert devoured in their sin : From the land of promise ye fade and die, Ere its verdure gleams forth on your weary eye ; As the kings of the cloud-crowned pyramid, Their noteless bones in oblivion hid, Ye slumber unmarked 'mid the desolate main, While the wonder and pride of your works remain.
Página 265 - neath the billows dark, The wrecking reef for the gallant bark ? There are snares enough on the tented field, Mid the blossomed sweets that the valleys yield ;. There are serpents to coil ere the flowers are up, There's a...
Página 292 - Virginia's godlike chief — Ye, whose last thought upon your nightly couch, Whose first at waking, is your cradled son, — What though no high ambition prompts to...