The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth LongfellowHoughton, Osgood, 1879 - 379 páginas |
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Página xxi
... wait . THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS . THERE is a Reaper , whose name is Death , And , with his sickle keen , He reaps the bearded grain at a breath , And the flowers that grow between . " Shall I have naught that is fair ? " saith he ...
... wait . THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS . THERE is a Reaper , whose name is Death , And , with his sickle keen , He reaps the bearded grain at a breath , And the flowers that grow between . " Shall I have naught that is fair ? " saith he ...
Página 12
... wait . Yes , the glad messenger of love , To guide us to our home above , The Saviour came ; Born amid mortal cares and fears , He suffered in this vale of tears A death of shame . Behold of what delusive worth The bubbles we pursue on ...
... wait . Yes , the glad messenger of love , To guide us to our home above , The Saviour came ; Born amid mortal cares and fears , He suffered in this vale of tears A death of shame . Behold of what delusive worth The bubbles we pursue on ...
Página 16
... wait ! to thee my weary soul is crying , Wait for me ! Yet why ask it , when I see , With feet nailed to the cross , thou ' rt waiting still for me ! TO - MORROW . FROM THE SPANISH OF LOPE DE VEGA . LORD , what am I , that , with ...
... wait ! to thee my weary soul is crying , Wait for me ! Yet why ask it , when I see , With feet nailed to the cross , thou ' rt waiting still for me ! TO - MORROW . FROM THE SPANISH OF LOPE DE VEGA . LORD , what am I , that , with ...
Página 17
... wait for thee ! " And , O ! how often to that voice of sor- row , " To - morrow we will open , " I replied , And when the morrow came swered still , " To - morrow . " THE NATIVE LAND . an- FROM THE SPANISH OF FRANCISCO DE ALDANA . CLEAR ...
... wait for thee ! " And , O ! how often to that voice of sor- row , " To - morrow we will open , " I replied , And when the morrow came swered still , " To - morrow . " THE NATIVE LAND . an- FROM THE SPANISH OF FRANCISCO DE ALDANA . CLEAR ...
Página 31
... waiting beside him Grave your confession in letters of fire upon tablets eternal . Thus , then , - believe ye in God , in the Father who this world created ? Him who redeemed it , the Son , and the Spirit where both are united ? Will ye ...
... waiting beside him Grave your confession in letters of fire upon tablets eternal . Thus , then , - believe ye in God , in the Father who this world created ? Him who redeemed it , the Son , and the Spirit where both are united ? Will ye ...
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Outras edições - Ver todos
The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Visualização completa - 1865 |
The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Visualização completa - 1864 |
Termos e frases comuns
Acadian Angel answered arrows beautiful behold beneath birds Bons amis breath bright brooklet Chibiabos Chispa cloud cried Dacotahs dark dead death door dreams earth Edenhall Eginhard EPIMETHEUS eyes face fair father fear feet fire forest gazed gleam golden Grand-Pré guests Gypsy hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven HEPHÆSTUS Hiawatha John Alden Kenabeek King Olaf Kwasind land Lara Laughing Water light listen look loud maiden meadow mighty Miles Standish Mondamin moon morning night o'er Osseo Padre PANDORA passed Pau-Puk-Keewis Pray prayer Prec river rose round rushing sails sang shadow shining Sigrid the Haughty silent singing sleep smile snow song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spake stars stood sunshine sweet tale Tharaw thee thou art thought unto Vict village voice wait walls wampum wandered whispered wigwam wild wind words youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 34 - 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.
Página 36 - ... wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining ; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
Página 86 - 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 xxi - Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us, Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Página 86 - I breathed a song into the air, I i. fell to earth, I knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong. That it can follow the flight of song • Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke ; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend, SONNETS.
Página 218 - O'er the arms and back of my chair ; If I try to escape, they surround me ; They seem to be everywhere. They almost devour me with kisses, Their arms about me entwine, Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine ! Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, Because you have scaled the wall, Such an old mustache 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...
Página 228 - 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.
Página 91 - This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms. Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.
Página 218 - THE CHILDREN'S HOUR. BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair.
Página 86 - THE DAY IS DONE. 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.