Readings in American PoetryJohn C. Riker, 1843 - 264 psl. |
Knygos viduje
Rezultatai 1–5 iš 34
16 psl.
... blue . Ah me ! what mischiefs on the dead attend ! Wandering a stranger to the shores below , Where shall I brook or real fountain find ? Lazy and sad deluding waters flow : Such is the picture in my boding mind ! THE DYING INDIAN ...
... blue . Ah me ! what mischiefs on the dead attend ! Wandering a stranger to the shores below , Where shall I brook or real fountain find ? Lazy and sad deluding waters flow : Such is the picture in my boding mind ! THE DYING INDIAN ...
27 psl.
... blue Float round the distant mountain's side . At midnight hour , as shines the moon , A sheet of silver spreads below , And swift she cuts , at highest noon , Light clouds , like wreaths of purest snow . On thy fair bosom , silver lake ...
... blue Float round the distant mountain's side . At midnight hour , as shines the moon , A sheet of silver spreads below , And swift she cuts , at highest noon , Light clouds , like wreaths of purest snow . On thy fair bosom , silver lake ...
47 psl.
... blue My vision marks from whence thy music ranges . And why this hour - this voiceless hour - is thine , And thine alone , I cannot tell . Perchance , While all is hush and silent but the heart , * The river Huron rises in the interior ...
... blue My vision marks from whence thy music ranges . And why this hour - this voiceless hour - is thine , And thine alone , I cannot tell . Perchance , While all is hush and silent but the heart , * The river Huron rises in the interior ...
53 psl.
... blue berries . In these peaceful shades— Peaceful , unpruned , immeasurably old— My thoughts go up the long dim path of years , Back to the earliest days of Liberty . O FREEDOM ! thou art not as poets dream , A fair young girl , with ...
... blue berries . In these peaceful shades— Peaceful , unpruned , immeasurably old— My thoughts go up the long dim path of years , Back to the earliest days of Liberty . O FREEDOM ! thou art not as poets dream , A fair young girl , with ...
61 psl.
... blue cups trembling , and they nod So gracefully to the kisses of the wind . It may be deem'd too idle , but the young Read nature like the manuscript of heaven , And call the flowers its poetry . Go out ! Ye spirits of habitual unrest ...
... blue cups trembling , and they nod So gracefully to the kisses of the wind . It may be deem'd too idle , but the young Read nature like the manuscript of heaven , And call the flowers its poetry . Go out ! Ye spirits of habitual unrest ...
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Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Readings in American Poetry– For the Use of Schools Rufus Wilmot Griswold Visos knygos peržiūra - 1843 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
ALBERT PIKE ALNWICK CASTLE amid art Napoleon beauty beneath bird blue bosom breast breath breeze bright brow CARLOS WILCOX cheek cloud dark dead death deep dost dream earth Excelsior fair FITZ-GREENE HALLECK flowers forest gale gaze gentle gloom glorious glory glow grave GRAY FOREST-EAGLE green groves hand Hark hath hear heart heaven HENRY W hills hour lake land leaves life's light living lone look look'd mighty morning mountain N. P. WILLIS night o'er ocean pale pass pass'd pinions prayer R. H. DANA rest rock round SENECA LAKE shade shore silent sleep slumbers smile song soul spirit spring stars storm stream sweep sweet swell tears thee thine Thou art thou hast thought tone tree twilight URSA MAJOR voice WASHINGTON ALLSTON waters waves weary whip-poor-will wild WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT winds wing wither'd woods youth
Populiarios ištraukos
161 psl. - TO A WATERFOWL 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.
147 psl. - The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago, And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow; But on the hill the goldenrod, and the aster in the wood, And the yellow sunflower by the brook...
15 psl. - Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
15 psl. - 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 favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
139 psl. - In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; Above, the spectral glaciers shone, And from his lips escaped a groan, Excelsior! "Try not the pass!
83 psl. - He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
147 psl. - And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home ; When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still, And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
15 psl. - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
73 psl. - The fan-coral sweeps through the clear, deep sea ; And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean Are bending like corn on the upland lea. And life, in rare and beautiful forms, Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, And is safe when the wrathful spirit of storms Has made the top of the wave his own.
233 psl. - My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," The reaper said, and smiled ; "Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child. " They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.