Poems, 1 tomasD. Appleton, 1855 - 264 psl. |
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61 psl.
... eyes that weep . The light of smiles shall fill again The lids that overflow with tears ; And weary hours of woe and pain Are promises of happier years . There is a day of sunny rest For every dark Blessed are they that Mourn.
... eyes that weep . The light of smiles shall fill again The lids that overflow with tears ; And weary hours of woe and pain Are promises of happier years . There is a day of sunny rest For every dark Blessed are they that Mourn.
72 psl.
... weep them yet again ; And thou from some I love wilt take a life Dear to me as my own . Yet while the spell Is on my spirit , and I talk with thee In sight of all thy trophies , face to face , Meet is it that my voice should utter forth ...
... weep them yet again ; And thou from some I love wilt take a life Dear to me as my own . Yet while the spell Is on my spirit , and I talk with thee In sight of all thy trophies , face to face , Meet is it that my voice should utter forth ...
81 psl.
... to cumber earth . Shuddering I look On what is written , yet I blot not out The desultory numbers ; let them stand , The record of an idle revery . VOL . I. - 4 * THE MASSACRE AT SCIO . WEEP not for Scio's children HYMN TO DEATH . 81.
... to cumber earth . Shuddering I look On what is written , yet I blot not out The desultory numbers ; let them stand , The record of an idle revery . VOL . I. - 4 * THE MASSACRE AT SCIO . WEEP not for Scio's children HYMN TO DEATH . 81.
82 psl.
William Cullen Bryant. THE MASSACRE AT SCIO . WEEP not for Scio's children slain ; Their blood , by Turkish falchions shed , Sends not its cry to Heaven in vain For vengeance on the murderer's head . Though high the warm red torrent ran ...
William Cullen Bryant. THE MASSACRE AT SCIO . WEEP not for Scio's children slain ; Their blood , by Turkish falchions shed , Sends not its cry to Heaven in vain For vengeance on the murderer's head . Though high the warm red torrent ran ...
86 psl.
... weeps the hours away , Yet almost can her grief forget , To think that thou dost love her yet . " And thou , by one of those still lakes That in a shining cluster lie , On which the south wind scarcely breaks The image of the sky , A ...
... weeps the hours away , Yet almost can her grief forget , To think that thou dost love her yet . " And thou , by one of those still lakes That in a shining cluster lie , On which the south wind scarcely breaks The image of the sky , A ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
ages amid beam beauty beneath bird blood bloom blossoms blue boughs breath bright brook calm CHRE clouds cold dark Day of Fire day-dawn Deadly assassin death deep dwell earth fair flowers forest frown gaze gentle glad glen glides glorious glory grave Greece green groves guilt hand hath hear hear my song heart heaven hills hour hues hymn insect wings land leaves light little hour look lovely stream maid maiden maize Maquon mighty mountain murmur night o'er pass path peace pleasant pure quiet race realm rill Rizpah rocks round scene shade shalt thou shine sight silent skies smile soft song sparkles of light spirit Stockbridge stream summer sunny sweet tears thee thine thou art thou dost Thou shalt trees tribes vale valley stream voice wander weep wild wind-flower winds wings woods youth youthful voices
Populiarios ištraukos
25 psl. - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware.
28 psl. - So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure? All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
39 psl. - 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.
207 psl. - Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? Alas ! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again.
29 psl. - When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee. As the long train Of ages...
41 psl. - Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet, on my heart Deeply has sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright.
173 psl. - Father, thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns, thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose All these fair ranks of trees.
106 psl. - Ah, passing few are they who speak, Wild stormy month ! in praise of thee ; Yet, though thy winds are loud and bleak, Thou art a welcome month to me. For thou, to northern lands again, The glad and glorious sun dost bring, And thou hast joined the gentle train And wear'st the gentle name of Spring. And, in thy reign of blast and storm, Smiles many a long, bright, sunny day, When the changed winds are soft and warm, And heaven puts on the blue of May.
62 psl. - There is a day of sunny rest For every dark and troubled night ; And grief may bide an evening guest, But joy shall come with early light.
185 psl. - But if, around my place of sleep, The friends I love should come to weep, They might not haste to go. Soft airs, and song, and light, and bloom, Should keep them lingering by my tomb.