The Magazine of Poetry, 3 tomasCharles Wells Moulton, 1891 |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 1–5 iš 78
iii psl.
... Beautiful Isle of the Sea . Sweet Genevieve . Must We Then Meet as Strangers . Baby - Land . A Midsummer Day . Mother - Love . A Bird's Carol . An Inquisitive Boy . Quotation . DORR , JULIA C. R. Portrait by Stimson , Appleton , Wis ...
... Beautiful Isle of the Sea . Sweet Genevieve . Must We Then Meet as Strangers . Baby - Land . A Midsummer Day . Mother - Love . A Bird's Carol . An Inquisitive Boy . Quotation . DORR , JULIA C. R. Portrait by Stimson , Appleton , Wis ...
11 psl.
... BEAUTIFUL ISLE OF THE SEA . BEAUTIFUL isle of the sea ! Smile on the brow of the waters ! Dear are your memories to me , — Sweet as the songs of your daughters . Over your mountains and vales , Down by each murmuring river , Cheered by ...
... BEAUTIFUL ISLE OF THE SEA . BEAUTIFUL isle of the sea ! Smile on the brow of the waters ! Dear are your memories to me , — Sweet as the songs of your daughters . Over your mountains and vales , Down by each murmuring river , Cheered by ...
16 psl.
... beautiful home , enriched with treasures from many lands , there has grown up a far - reaching intellectual life of which she is the soul and centre . She is loved and hon- ored in her own town , and there hundreds of women , of all ...
... beautiful home , enriched with treasures from many lands , there has grown up a far - reaching intellectual life of which she is the soul and centre . She is loved and hon- ored in her own town , and there hundreds of women , of all ...
17 psl.
... beautiful Rose ! Queen rose , so fair and sweet , What were lover or crown to thee Without the Clay at thy feet ? " As the shadows crawl over yonder steep . Thirty - one nights , and I shall lie Watching the stars climb up the sky ! How ...
... beautiful Rose ! Queen rose , so fair and sweet , What were lover or crown to thee Without the Clay at thy feet ? " As the shadows crawl over yonder steep . Thirty - one nights , and I shall lie Watching the stars climb up the sky ! How ...
18 psl.
... of another day ! " And sometime , love , it may be , I shall whisper under my breath : " The happiest hour of my life , dear , Is this -the hour of my death ! " PEACE . O beautiful one , my Country , Thou 18 THE MAGAZINE OF POETRY .
... of another day ! " And sometime , love , it may be , I shall whisper under my breath : " The happiest hour of my life , dear , Is this -the hour of my death ! " PEACE . O beautiful one , my Country , Thou 18 THE MAGAZINE OF POETRY .
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Albert Sidney Johnston angels beautiful birds bless bloom blue born Boston breast breath bright brow CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON crown dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth eyes face fair feet flowers FORCEYTHE WILLSON frae FRANCIS SALTUS SALTUS friends G. P. Putnam's Sons gold golden grace grave gray hand hast hath hear heart heaven hour Ibid JEAN INGELOW kiss land life's light lips literary live London look love's Magazine of Poetry Maryland Miscellaneous poems morning mother neath never night o'er pain pass peace PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON poet poetic published rest rose shadows shine sigh silence sing skies sleep smile soft song Sonnets sorrow soul spirit stars strong summer sweet tears thee thine things thought tree verse voice weary wind wings woman wonder words York youth
Populiarios ištraukos
249 psl. - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
250 psl. - OTHERS abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask — Thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest hill, Who to the stars uncrowns his majesty, Planting his steadfast footsteps in the sea, Making the heaven of heavens his dwelling-place, Spares but the cloudy border of his base To the foil'd searching of mortality; And thou, who didst the stars and sunbeams know, Self-school'd, self-scann'd, self-honour'd, self-secure, Didst tread on earth unguess'd at.
242 psl. - Some feelings are to mortals given, With less of earth in them than heaven ; And if there be a human tear From passion's dross refined and clear, A tear so limpid and so meek, It would not stain an angel's cheek, 'Tis that which pious fathers shed Upon a duteous daughter's head...
380 psl. - ... laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings ; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle , But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas...
250 psl. - We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow. Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him, — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
243 psl. - In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me: As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, While God is marching on.
391 psl. - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.
381 psl. - Some have too much, yet still do crave; I little have, and seek no more. They are but poor, though much they have, And I am rich with little store: They poor, I rich; they beg, I give; They lack, I leave; they pine, I live.
246 psl. - Woodman, spare that tree ! Touch not a single bough ! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy ax shall harm it not.
244 psl. - Still through the cloven skies they come, With peaceful wings unfurled ; And still their heavenly music floats O'er all the weary world : Above its sad and lowly plains They bend on hovering wing, And ever o'er its Babel sounds The blessed angels sing.