The Poets of America, Volumen2John Keese S. Colman, 1842 - 326 páginas |
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Página 9
... Hadad The Last Reader 6 CATHARINE H. WATERMAN 154 • . CARLOS WILCOX 156 J. G. C. BRAINARD 162 JAMES A. HILLHOUSE 163 To a City Pigeon • OLIVER W. HOLMES 172 MICAH P. FLINT 175 NATHANIEL P. WILLIS 178 GEORGE D. PRENTICE 180 Written at My ...
... Hadad The Last Reader 6 CATHARINE H. WATERMAN 154 • . CARLOS WILCOX 156 J. G. C. BRAINARD 162 JAMES A. HILLHOUSE 163 To a City Pigeon • OLIVER W. HOLMES 172 MICAH P. FLINT 175 NATHANIEL P. WILLIS 178 GEORGE D. PRENTICE 180 Written at My ...
Página 154
... Come to the ark , like the o'er - wearied dove , Brother , come home . Come home , t home Brother, come Home Spring in New England The Falls of Niagara Scene from Hadad The Last Reader CONTENTS 6 CATHARINE H WATERMAN.
... Come to the ark , like the o'er - wearied dove , Brother , come home . Come home , t home Brother, come Home Spring in New England The Falls of Niagara Scene from Hadad The Last Reader CONTENTS 6 CATHARINE H WATERMAN.
Página 162
... , what art thou to Him , Who drowned a world , and heaped the waters far Above its loftiest mountains ? -a light wave , That breaks , and whispers of its Maker's might . SCENE FROM HADAD . BY JAMES A. HILLHOUSE . The J G C BRAINARD.
... , what art thou to Him , Who drowned a world , and heaped the waters far Above its loftiest mountains ? -a light wave , That breaks , and whispers of its Maker's might . SCENE FROM HADAD . BY JAMES A. HILLHOUSE . The J G C BRAINARD.
Página 163
... the expiation , and forgive This day's offences ! -Ha ! the wonted strain , Precursor of his coming ! —Whence can this— It seems to flow from some unearthly hand- Enter HADAD . Had . Does beauteous Tamar view , JAMES A HILLHOUSE.
... the expiation , and forgive This day's offences ! -Ha ! the wonted strain , Precursor of his coming ! —Whence can this— It seems to flow from some unearthly hand- Enter HADAD . Had . Does beauteous Tamar view , JAMES A HILLHOUSE.
Página 164
John Keese. Enter HADAD . Had . Does beauteous Tamar view , in t Herself , or heaven ? Tam . Nay , Hadad , tell me whence Those sad , mysterious sounds . Had . What sounds , dear Princess ? Tam . Surely , thou know'st ; and now I Some ...
John Keese. Enter HADAD . Had . Does beauteous Tamar view , in t Herself , or heaven ? Tam . Nay , Hadad , tell me whence Those sad , mysterious sounds . Had . What sounds , dear Princess ? Tam . Surely , thou know'st ; and now I Some ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
The Poets of America: Illustrated by One of Her Painters - Primary Source ... John Keese Sin vista previa disponible - 2013 |
Términos y frases comunes
ALBERT PIKE autumn beams beautiful beneath beneath the sky bird bless blest bloom bosom breast breath bright brow CARLOS WILCOX CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN chimes clouds dark deep dost doth dream e temple earth eternal FELICIA HEMANS flowers FRANCES SARGENT OSGOOD gaze gentle GEORGE WASHINGTON DOANE glorious glory grave green hath hear heart heaven hills holy hour leaves life's light lingers lone look melody morning mountain mournful murmur Nature's neath night at sea NORTH BURIAL GROUND o'er pale passed rest roar roll round SCENE FROM HADAD shade shadows shine shore sing skies sleep slumbers smile soft solemn song soul sound spirit spring stars stream summer sunbeams sweet swelling tears thee thine Thou art thoughts throng tree trembling twilight URSA MAJOR vale voice Washington Allston waves weary wild winds wings woods youthful
Pasajes populares
Página 192 - The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, the fir tree, the pine tree and the box together, to beautify the place of my sanctuary; and 1 will make the place of my feet
Página 179 - in this crowded air; I sometimes dream Angelic rays from thy pinions stream. Come then, ever, when daylight leaves The page I read, to my humble eaves, And wash thy breast in the hollow spout, And murmur thy low sweet music out! I hear and see Lessons of Heaven, sweet bird, in thee!
Página 60 - have quenched Your ancient flames, and bid eternal night Rest on your spheres; and yet no tidings reach This distant planet. Messengers still come Laden with your far fire, and we may seem To see your lights still burning; while their blaze But hides the black wreck of extinguished realms, Where anarchy and darkness long have reigned.
Página 181 - I gaze above—thy look is imaged there, I listen—and thy gentle tone Is on the air. Oh come, while here I press My brow upon thy grave—and, in those mild And thrilling tones of tenderness, Bless, bless thy child! Yes, bless thy weeping child, And o'er thine urn—religion's holiest shrine— Oh give his spirit
Página 95 - HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. I have read, in some old marvellous tale, Some legend strange and vague, That a midnight host of spectres pale Beleaguered the walls of Prague. Beside the Moldau's rushing stream, With the wan moon overhead, There stood, as in an awful dream, The army of the dead. White as a sea-fog, landward bound, The spectral camp was seen, And, with a sorrowful, deep sound,
Página 112 - of life shall sever. Remnant of days departed long, Emblem of plighted troth unbroken, Pledge of devoted faithfulness, Of heartfelt, holy love, the token— What varied feelings round it cling! For these, I like that ancient ring. THE MOON UPON THE SPIRE BY HANNAH F. GOULD. The full-orbed moon
Página 242 - How great are his signs, and how mighty are his wonders; His kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and his dominion is from generation to generation."—Daniel.
Página 47 - Yes, dear one, to the envied train Of those around thy homage pay; But wilt thou never kindly deign To think of him that's far away ? Thy form, thine eye, thine angel smile, For many years I may not see; But wilt thou not sometimes the while, My sister dear, remember me
Página 233 - tis but the streak Of whirling snow;—the tempest's shriek— No human aid is near; Never again that form will meet Thy clasped embrace—those accents sweet Speak music to thine ear. Morn broke ;—away the clouds were chased, The sky was pure and bright, And on its blue, the branches traced
Página 255 - Caught'st thou thy carol from Ottawa maid, Where, through the liquid fields of wild-rice plashing, Brushing the ears from off the burdened blade, Her birch canoe o'er some lone lake is flashing! Or did the reeds of some savannah south Detain thee, while thy northern flight pursuing, To place those melodies in thy sweet mouth,
Referencias a este libro
The American Byron: Homosexuality and the Fall of Fitz-Greene Halleck John W. M. Hallock Vista previa limitada - 2000 |