Poems, collected and arranged by the author. Author's ed, Edição 626 |
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Poems, Collected and Arranged by the Author. Author's Ed William Cullen Bryant Não há visualização disponível - 2016 |
Poems, Collected and Arranged by the Author. Author's Ed William Cullen Bryant Não há visualização disponível - 2016 |
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amid arms Author bear beauty beneath beside bird bloom blossoms blue bound breath bright bring broad brook clouds cold comes Crown 8vo dark dead death deep dost dream dwell early earth Edition eyes face fair fall fear feet fields flowers forest fresh gathered gentle glad glorious glory grave green hand hast hear heard heart heaven hills hour Italy land leaves light living look mighty morning mountains murmur never night o'er once pass path pleasant Price rest rise river rock round shade shining shore side sight silent sleep smile soft sound spirit spring stand story stream strong summer sweet tears thee thine thou thought till trees voice vols walk wandering watch waters waves wild wind woods young youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 24 - The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Página 103 - And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home ; When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still, And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
Página 93 - Nor would its brightness shine for me, Nor its wild music flow. But if, around my place of sleep, The friends I love should come to weep, They might not haste to go. Soft airs, and song, and light, and bloom, Should keep them lingering by my tomb. These to their softened hearts should bear The thought of what has been, And speak of one who cannot share The gladness of the scene ; Whose part in all the pomp that fills The circuit of the summer hills, Is — that his grave is green ! And deeply would...
Página 88 - The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them — ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood, Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.
Página 202 - Yet nerve thy spirit to the proof, And blench not at thy chosen lot. The timid good may stand aloof, The sage may frown — yet faint thou not. Nor heed the shaft too surely cast, The foul and hissing bolt of scorn; For with thy side shall dwell, at last, The victory of endurance born.
Página 25 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, which moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Página 25 - VYNER (Lady Mary). Every day a Portion. Adapted from the Bible and the Prayer Book, for the Private Devotions of those living in Widowhood.
Página 28 - The Hymn Book consists of Three Parts:— I. For Public Worship.— II. For Family and Private Worship. —III. For Children. %* Published in various forms and prices, the latter ranging from %d.
Página 23 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides Into his darker musings with a mild And gentle sympathy that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware.
Página 102 - THE melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere, Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread ; The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood?