Select PoemsE. C. & J. Biddle, 1845 - 338 páginas |
De dentro do livro
Resultados 1-5 de 42
Página 20
... where luscious berries swell , The village school , and Sabbath's tuneful bell , And smiles to see the infant soul expand With proud devotion for that father - land . THE STARS . MAKE friendship with the stars . Go 20 CONNECTICUT RIVER .
... where luscious berries swell , The village school , and Sabbath's tuneful bell , And smiles to see the infant soul expand With proud devotion for that father - land . THE STARS . MAKE friendship with the stars . Go 20 CONNECTICUT RIVER .
Página 28
... Her gushing eye , and ere the tear - drop dried Upon its fringes , smiled . Doubt not that smile , Like Abraham's faith , was counted righteousness . WILD FLOWERS GATHERED FOR A SICK FRIEND . RISE from 28 THE CHEERFUL GIVER .
... Her gushing eye , and ere the tear - drop dried Upon its fringes , smiled . Doubt not that smile , Like Abraham's faith , was counted righteousness . WILD FLOWERS GATHERED FOR A SICK FRIEND . RISE from 28 THE CHEERFUL GIVER .
Página 30
... letter from Mrs. Hemans , to a friend in this country , pointing out some poems in that volume which pleased her , designated , among others , this " Death of an Infant . " 7 But there beam'd a smile , So fix'd , so 30 Death of an Infant.
... letter from Mrs. Hemans , to a friend in this country , pointing out some poems in that volume which pleased her , designated , among others , this " Death of an Infant . " 7 But there beam'd a smile , So fix'd , so 30 Death of an Infant.
Página 31
Lydia Howard Sigourney. But there beam'd a smile , So fix'd , so holy , from that cherub brow , Death gazed , and left it there . He dar'd not steal The signet - ring of Heaven . 3 * " PERDIDI DIEM . " The Emperor Titus , at DEATH OF AN ...
Lydia Howard Sigourney. But there beam'd a smile , So fix'd , so holy , from that cherub brow , Death gazed , and left it there . He dar'd not steal The signet - ring of Heaven . 3 * " PERDIDI DIEM . " The Emperor Titus , at DEATH OF AN ...
Página 37
... tender glance from earth does part ; But her infant daughter's image fair In the smile of innocence is there , It clings to her soul ' mid its last despair ; And the desolate queen is doom'd to know How far ANNA BOLEYN . 37.
... tender glance from earth does part ; But her infant daughter's image fair In the smile of innocence is there , It clings to her soul ' mid its last despair ; And the desolate queen is doom'd to know How far ANNA BOLEYN . 37.
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 | |
Outras edições - Ver todos
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...