Poetry of America: Selections from One Hundred American Poets from 1776 to 1876G. Bell, 1878 - 387 páginas |
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Términos y frases comunes
Annabel Lee April grace beauty bells beneath bird blood blow blue BOBOLINK Born Brahma brave breast breath breeze bright brow cloud cold dark dead death deep door dream earth evermore eyes fair fall Fcap fill'd fire flowers FORCEYTHE WILLSON glory golden growing hair hand hath head hear heard heart Heathen Chinee heaven hill hour kiss land leaves light lips look look'd lover Maryland moon never night o'er Old Brown Osawatomie Brown pass'd peace PHOEBE CARY Pioneers play'd poems Post 8vo Rhocus rose round seem'd shine shore silent sing Sir JOHN FRANKLIN skald sleep smile snow soft song soul sound spirit star-spangled banner stars stood summer sweet SWEET oblivion tears tell thee thine thou thought to-day tree turn'd Twas unto vex'd voice waves ween whip-poor-will wild WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING wind wings
Pasajes populares
Página 128 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we, Of many far wiser than we; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee: For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
Página 57 - IF the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. Far or forgot to me is near ; Shadow and sunlight are the same ; /...,'..'. The vanished gods to me appear; And one to me are shame and fame. They reckon ill who leave me out; When me they fly, I am the wings; I am the doubter and the doubt, And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.
Página 122 - Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore — Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never — nevermore.
Página 125 - What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the Future! how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
Página 122 - But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore, What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore.
Página 74 - 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 126 - Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, — By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells, Of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells — In...
Página 126 - Iron bells ! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels ! In the silence of the night How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people — ah, the people...
Página 72 - ... with a heavy stride On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. Now he patted his horse's side, Now gazed at the landscape far and near, Then, impetuous, stamped the earth, And turned and tightened his saddle-girth; But mostly he watched with eager search The belfry-tower of the Old North Church, As it rose above the graves on the hill, Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
Página 25 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.