Poems, Volym 2D. Appleton, 1855 |
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Resultat 1-5 av 33
Sida 4
... waters , bright with stars , and rouse , The wide old wood from his majestic rest , Summoning , from the innumerable boughs , The strange , deep harmonies that haunt his breast : Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows The shutting ...
... waters , bright with stars , and rouse , The wide old wood from his majestic rest , Summoning , from the innumerable boughs , The strange , deep harmonies that haunt his breast : Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows The shutting ...
Sida 11
... waters flow ; Nor earth , within her bosom , locks Thy dark unfathomed wells below . Thy springs are in the cloud , thy stream Begins to move and murmur first Where ice - peaks feel the noonday beam , Or rain - storms on the glacier ...
... waters flow ; Nor earth , within her bosom , locks Thy dark unfathomed wells below . Thy springs are in the cloud , thy stream Begins to move and murmur first Where ice - peaks feel the noonday beam , Or rain - storms on the glacier ...
Sida 28
... he ranged so long , And , nearer to the Rocky Mountains , sought A wider hunting - ground . The beaver builds No longer by these streams , but far away , On waters whose blue surface ne'er gave back The white 28 POEMS .
... he ranged so long , And , nearer to the Rocky Mountains , sought A wider hunting - ground . The beaver builds No longer by these streams , but far away , On waters whose blue surface ne'er gave back The white 28 POEMS .
Sida 29
William Cullen Bryant. On waters whose blue surface ne'er gave back The white man's face - among Missouri's springs , And pools whose issues swell the Oregan , He rears his little Venice . In these plains The bison feeds no more . Twice ...
William Cullen Bryant. On waters whose blue surface ne'er gave back The white man's face - among Missouri's springs , And pools whose issues swell the Oregan , He rears his little Venice . In these plains The bison feeds no more . Twice ...
Sida 35
... from winter's death , Give out a fragrance like thy breath- The summer is begun ! Ay , ' tis the long bright summer day : Hark , to that mighty crash ! The loosened ice - ridge breaks away— The smitten waters The Arctic Lover.
... from winter's death , Give out a fragrance like thy breath- The summer is begun ! Ay , ' tis the long bright summer day : Hark , to that mighty crash ! The loosened ice - ridge breaks away— The smitten waters The Arctic Lover.
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Vanliga ord och fraser
amid beauty beneath bird blooming blossoms blue boughs boundless breast breath breeze bright brook brow cheek clouds dark dead deep deer Dragged Death dwell earth EARTH'S CHILDREN fair flowers forest gathered gentle glimmering glittering glorious glory grass grave gray marmot green GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS ground gush hand HARVARD DIVINITY SCHOOL hast heart heaven hills hour Land of Dreams light linger Lous maiden Mary Magdalen mighty moon morning mountain murmur night noon o'er Oh father pain pale Paradise falls pass path poem PROVENÇAL rise rivulet rock rolled ruffed grouse rustling savannas scorn shade shadow shalt shining shore skies sleep slumber smile soft sorrow sound SPANISH Spanish poetry spring stream strife summer sweep sweet swell tears thee thine eye thou art throng vale valleys voice walked wandering watch waters wild WILLIAM LEGGETT wind wings woodland woods youth
Populära avsnitt
Sida 23 - These are the gardens of the Desert, these The unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful, For which the speech of England has no name — The Prairies. I behold them for the first, ; And my heart swells, while the dilated sight Takes in the encircling vastness.
Sida 33 - Then sweet the hour that brings release From danger and from toil ; We talk the battle over, And share the battle's spoil. The woodland rings with laugh and shout, As if a hunt were up, And woodland flowers are gathered To crown the soldier's cup. With merry songs we mock the wind That in the pine-top grieves, And slumber long and sweetly On beds of oaken leaves.
Sida 26 - Of these fair solitudes once stir with life And burn with passion? Let the mighty mounds That overlook the rivers, or that rise In the dim forest crowded with old oaks, Answer. A race, that long has passed away, Built them; — a disciplined and populous race Heaped, with long toil, the earth, while yet the Greek Was hewing the Pentelicus to forms Of symmetry, and rearing on its rock The glittering Parthenon.
Sida 208 - Thy birthright was not given by human hands: Thou wert twin-born with man. In pleasant fields, While yet our race was few, thou sat'st with him, To tend the quiet flock and watch the stars, And teach the reed to utter simple airs.
Sida 4 - Nor I alone — a thousand bosoms round Inhale thee in the fulness of delight ; And languid forms rise up, and pulses bound Livelier, at coming of the wind of night; And, languishing to hear thy grateful sound, Lies the vast inland stretched beyond the sight. Go forth into the gathering shade ; go forth, God's blessing breathed upon the fainting earth...
Sida 17 - I would that thus, when I shall see The hour of death draw near to me, Hope, blossoming within my heart, May look to heaven as I depart.
Sida 207 - When he took off the gyves. A bearded man, Armed to the teeth, art thou; one mailed hand Grasps the broad shield, and one the sword; thy brow, Glorious in beauty though it be, is scarred With tokens of old wars; thy massive limbs Are strong with struggling. Power at thee has launched His bolts, and with his lightnings smitten thee; They could not quench the life thou hast from heaven...
Sida 24 - No- they are all unchained again. The clouds Sweep over with their shadows, and, beneath, The surface rolls and fluctuates to the eye ; Dark hollows seem to glide along and chase The sunny ridges.
Sida 33 - And woodland flowers are gathered To crown the soldier's cup. With merry songs we mock the wind That in the pine-top grieves, And slumber long and sweetly On beds of oaken leaves. Well knows the fair and friendly moon The band that Marion leads — The glitter of their rifles, The scampering of their steeds.
Sida 229 - Each, where his tasks or pleasures call, They pass, and heed each other not.. There is who heeds, who holds them all, In His large love and boundless thought. These struggling tides of life that seem In wayward, aimless course to tend, Are eddies of the mighty stream That rolls to its appointed end.