PoemsJ. Munroe & Company, 1847 - 251 psl. |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 16
36 psl.
... avail to tan Orange cheek or skin of man . Roses bleach , the goats are dry , Lisbon quakes , the people cry . Yon pale , scrawny fisher fools , Gaunt as bitterns in the pools , Are no brothers of my blood ; They discredit Adamhood 36 VIII.
... avail to tan Orange cheek or skin of man . Roses bleach , the goats are dry , Lisbon quakes , the people cry . Yon pale , scrawny fisher fools , Gaunt as bitterns in the pools , Are no brothers of my blood ; They discredit Adamhood 36 VIII.
37 psl.
Ralph Waldo Emerson. Are no brothers of my blood ; They discredit Adamhood . Eyes of gods ! ye must have seen , O'er your ramparts as ye lean , The general debility ; Of genius the sterility ; Mighty projects countermanded ; Rash ...
Ralph Waldo Emerson. Are no brothers of my blood ; They discredit Adamhood . Eyes of gods ! ye must have seen , O'er your ramparts as ye lean , The general debility ; Of genius the sterility ; Mighty projects countermanded ; Rash ...
49 psl.
... To drudge all day for Guy the wise . In his rich nurseries , timely skill Strong crab with nobler blood did fill ; The zephyr in his garden rolled From plum - trees vegetable gold ; And all the hours of the year With their own 4 GUY . 49.
... To drudge all day for Guy the wise . In his rich nurseries , timely skill Strong crab with nobler blood did fill ; The zephyr in his garden rolled From plum - trees vegetable gold ; And all the hours of the year With their own 4 GUY . 49.
98 psl.
... can ; Is this colossal talisman Kindly to creature , blood , and kind , And speechless to the master's mind ? I thought to find the patriots In whom the stock of freedom roots : To myself I oft recount The tale of many a 98 MONADNOC .
... can ; Is this colossal talisman Kindly to creature , blood , and kind , And speechless to the master's mind ? I thought to find the patriots In whom the stock of freedom roots : To myself I oft recount The tale of many a 98 MONADNOC .
111 psl.
... blood ; I lame him , clattering down the rocks ; And to live he is in fear . Then , at last , I let him down Once more into his dapper town , To chatter , frightened , to his clan , And forget me if he can . ' As in the old poetic fame ...
... blood ; I lame him , clattering down the rocks ; And to live he is in fear . Then , at last , I let him down Once more into his dapper town , To chatter , frightened , to his clan , And forget me if he can . ' As in the old poetic fame ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
agrimony amulets astronomy bard beauty bird blessed blood boughs breeze brook Canst child churl cloud Cossack Dæmon dear deep delight divine doth draw earth eternal eyebeam Fakirs fall Fate feet flame flowers forest forest fall forever genius German glow gods GOETHE grace Hafiz hast hath Hearken heaven Heed hill Houris JAMES MUNROE JEAN PAUL RICHTER Jove juice land leaves light lore lover maid melt mind morning mountain Muse Nature Nature's never o'er pale Pentecost pine pine-tree plant Pleiads POEMS poet Price 50 cents pulse race rhyme rose round Saadi SAMUEL OSGOOD scorn secret seek shadow shines sings song soul sphere Sphinx star sunbeam sweet thee thine eye things thou thou shalt thought throbbing thrush thy heart Translated tree Twill unto Uriel volume wave wild wind wise wood
Populiarios ištraukos
250 psl. - BY the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world.
72 psl. - The timid it concerns to ask their way, And fear what foe in caves and swamps can stray, To make no step until the event is known, And ills to come as evils past bemoan. Not so the wise ; no coward watch he keeps To spy what danger on his pathway creeps ; Go where he will, the wise man is at home, His hearth the earth, — his hall the azure dome ; Where his clear spirit leads him, there's his road, By God's own light illumined and foreshowed.
141 psl. - T is a brave master; Let it have scope: Follow it utterly, Hope beyond hope: High and more high It dives into noon, With wing unspent, Untold intent; But it is a god, Knows its own path And the outlets of the sky. It was never for the mean; It requireth courage stout. Souls above doubt, Valor unbending, It will reward,-- They shall return More than they were, And ever ascending.
12 psl. - In stings of remorse. Have I a lover Who is noble and free ? — I would he were nobler Than to love me. " Eterne alternation Now follows, now flies ; And under pain, pleasure, — Under pleasure, pain lies. ;/ *••< Love works at the centre, Heart-heaving alway ; Forth speed the strong pulses To the borders of day. " Dull Sphinx, Jove keep thy five wits ; Thy sight is growing blear; Rue, myrrh and cummin for the Sphinx, __~- Her muddy eyes to clear...
53 psl. - Where are these men ? Asleep beneath their grounds And strangers, fond as they, their furrows plough. Earth laughs in flowers, to see her boastful boys Earth-proud, proud of the earth which is not theirs ; Who steer the plough, but cannot steer their feet Clear of the grave.
138 psl. - Olympian bards who sung Divine ideas below, Which always find us young, And always keep us so.
29 psl. - Or by knowledge grown too bright To hit the nerve of feebler sight. Straightway, a forgetting wind Stole over the celestial kind, And their lips the secret kept, If in ashes the fire-seed slept. But now and then, truth-speaking things Shamed the angels...
120 psl. - And ride mankind. There are two laws discrete, Not reconciled — Law for man, and law for thing; The last builds town and fleet, But it runs wild, And doth the man unking.
121 psl. - Let man serve law for man; Live for friendship, live for love, For truth's and harmony's behoof; The state may follow how it can, As Olympus follows Jove.
59 psl. - Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, To please the desert and the sluggish brook. The purple petals, fallen in the pool, Made the black water with their beauty gay; Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool, And court the flower that cheapens his array. Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, Then Beauty is its own excuse for being: Why thou wert there, 0 rival of the rose!