The Poets of America, Volumen2John Keese S. Colman, 1842 - 326 páginas |
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Página 21
... brow ! Thou blushest from the painter's page , Robed in the mimic tints of art ; But Nature's hand in youth's green age With fairer hues first traced thee on my heart . The morning's blush , she made it thine , The morn's sweet breath ...
... brow ! Thou blushest from the painter's page , Robed in the mimic tints of art ; But Nature's hand in youth's green age With fairer hues first traced thee on my heart . The morning's blush , she made it thine , The morn's sweet breath ...
Página 23
... brow crowned With Rome's imperial diadem : —the prize From priestly princes by thy proud sire won , To deck the pillow of his cradled son . Bidding whole seas of blood and carnage flow Alas ! Stanzas on the Death of the Duke Reichstadt ...
... brow crowned With Rome's imperial diadem : —the prize From priestly princes by thy proud sire won , To deck the pillow of his cradled son . Bidding whole seas of blood and carnage flow Alas ! Stanzas on the Death of the Duke Reichstadt ...
Página 35
... brow is wet with honest sweat ; He earns whate'er he can , And looks the whole world in the face , For he owes not any man . Week out , week in , from morn till night , You can hear his bellows blow ; You can hear him swing his heavy ...
... brow is wet with honest sweat ; He earns whate'er he can , And looks the whole world in the face , For he owes not any man . Week out , week in , from morn till night , You can hear his bellows blow ; You can hear him swing his heavy ...
Página 70
... one she had not known , Could give a kindly thought to her In sadness and alone ; It minded her of days gone by , When Love's untiring hand Wove blossoms for her youthful brow , That heart still warmly beats ith something of its olden.
... one she had not known , Could give a kindly thought to her In sadness and alone ; It minded her of days gone by , When Love's untiring hand Wove blossoms for her youthful brow , That heart still warmly beats ith something of its olden.
Página 72
... brow , And dims my sunken eye , forgets The heart he could not bow ; - Where love , that cannot perish , grows For one , alas ! that little knows How love may sometimes last ; Like sunshine wasting in the skies , When clouds are ...
... brow , And dims my sunken eye , forgets The heart he could not bow ; - Where love , that cannot perish , grows For one , alas ! that little knows How love may sometimes last ; Like sunshine wasting in the skies , When clouds are ...
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 |