Gems from the American Poets: With Brief Biographical NoticesRufus Wilmot Griswold H. Hooker, 1844 - 120 psl. |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 15 iš 20
9 psl.
... , from yonder orient sky , Stole the morning of thine eye ? Thousand charms , thy form to deck , From sea , and earth , and air are torn ; Roses bloom upon thy cheek , GEMS FROM THE On thy breath their fragrance borne . GEMS ...
... , from yonder orient sky , Stole the morning of thine eye ? Thousand charms , thy form to deck , From sea , and earth , and air are torn ; Roses bloom upon thy cheek , GEMS FROM THE On thy breath their fragrance borne . GEMS ...
19 psl.
... rod So help us , thine afflicted ones , to bear , That , in the spirit land , Meeting at thy right hand , ' Twill be our heaven to find that he is there ! SAMUEL WOODWORTH . MR . WOODWORTH was born in Scituate AMERICAN POETS . 19.
... rod So help us , thine afflicted ones , to bear , That , in the spirit land , Meeting at thy right hand , ' Twill be our heaven to find that he is there ! SAMUEL WOODWORTH . MR . WOODWORTH was born in Scituate AMERICAN POETS . 19.
34 psl.
... thine , here didst thou read ; This picture , ah ! yes , here , indeed , I see thee still . I see thee still : Here was thy summer noon's retreat , Here was thy favourite fireside seat ; This was thy chamber - here , each day , I sat ...
... thine , here didst thou read ; This picture , ah ! yes , here , indeed , I see thee still . I see thee still : Here was thy summer noon's retreat , Here was thy favourite fireside seat ; This was thy chamber - here , each day , I sat ...
46 psl.
... Thine , for a space , are they- Yet shalt thou yield thy treasures up at last ; Thy gates shall yet give way , Thy bolts shall fall , inexorable Past ! All that of good and fair Has gone into thy womb , from earliest time , Shall then ...
... Thine , for a space , are they- Yet shalt thou yield thy treasures up at last ; Thy gates shall yet give way , Thy bolts shall fall , inexorable Past ! All that of good and fair Has gone into thy womb , from earliest time , Shall then ...
56 psl.
... thine are laid in earth , There should a wreath be woven To tell the world their worth . And I , who woke each morrow To clasp thy hand in mine , Who shared thy joy and sorrow , Whose weal and wo were thine- It should be mine to braid ...
... thine are laid in earth , There should a wreath be woven To tell the world their worth . And I , who woke each morrow To clasp thy hand in mine , Who shared thy joy and sorrow , Whose weal and wo were thine- It should be mine to braid ...
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Gems from the American Poets With Brief Biographical Notices Rufus Wilmot Griswold Peržiūra negalima - 1848 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
angel beauty blue born bosom brave old world breast breath breeze bright brow bucket calm cheek clouds cold dark dead death deep dreams earth Excelsior face fair falchion feeling FITZ-GREENE HALLECK flowers gaze gentle glory glow gone grave green hand hath hear heart heaven holy hour JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE leaf leaves life's light lingering lips lone morning mourn myrtle and steel N. P. WILLIS night o'er ocean old oaken bucket pale pass'd passing poems prayer proud world RALPH WALDO EMERSON RICHARD HENRY WILDE ROSALIE CLARE rose round RUFUS DAWES SAMUEL WOODWORTH shade shadows shine shone shore sigh silent silver skies sleep slumber smile soft song soul sound spirit stars summer sweet swell tears thee thine thou art Thou hast thought tone tree voice WALTER COLTON WASHINGTON ALLSTON wave whispers wild WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT wind wings wither'd
Populiarios ištraukos
57 psl. - Come to the bridal chamber, Death! Come to the mother's when she feels For the first time her first-born's breath! Come when the blessed seals That close the pestilence are broke, And crowded cities wail its stroke!
40 psl. - Whither, 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.
105 psl. - And children coming home from school, Look in at the open door ; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
41 psl. - ... And soon that toil shall end ; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend, Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet, on my heart Deeply hath 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.
43 psl. - Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread ; The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers...
73 psl. - I fill this cup to one made up Of loveliness alone, A woman, of her gentle sex The seeming paragon ; To whom the better elements And kindly stars have given A form so fair, that, like the air, Tis less of earth than heaven.
106 psl. - Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.
104 psl. - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His 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.
56 psl. - Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise. Tears fell when thou wert dying, From eyes unused to weep, And long, where thou art lying, Will tears the cold turf steep. When hearts, whose truth was proven, Like thine, are laid in earth, There should a wreath be woven To tell the world their worth...
42 psl. - Truth crushed to earth, shall rise again The eternal years of God are hers; But Error, wounded, writhes in pain, And dies among his worshippers.