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Harp , that the Poets ' birth - place owns ! How bold becomes the timorous hand ,
When once it wakes thy tones . Here , where the broadest rivers sweep , Here ,
where the dimmest woods are found , Our fondest memories start from sleep ...
Harp , that the Poets ' birth - place owns ! How bold becomes the timorous hand ,
When once it wakes thy tones . Here , where the broadest rivers sweep , Here ,
where the dimmest woods are found , Our fondest memories start from sleep ...
Sida
The strains that fill with Hope the heart , The lays that cheer us in the strife , The
songs that make young Love a part , The dearest part of Life ; The fancies that the
Poets find In buds , in streams , in forests sere , In spells that master every mind ...
The strains that fill with Hope the heart , The lays that cheer us in the strife , The
songs that make young Love a part , The dearest part of Life ; The fancies that the
Poets find In buds , in streams , in forests sere , In spells that master every mind ...
Sida 85
Her first poem of any length , was published in 1842 , under the title of “ The
Sinless Child , ' and contains some of the most beautiful passages in the English
language . When about sixteen years of age , she became engaged to , and soon
...
Her first poem of any length , was published in 1842 , under the title of “ The
Sinless Child , ' and contains some of the most beautiful passages in the English
language . When about sixteen years of age , she became engaged to , and soon
...
Sida 86
E . P . Whipple , one of the ablest reviewers in this country , pays the following
merited compliment to the poetical genius of Mrs . Smith , in an article upon the '
Poets and Poetry of America , ' which appeared in the North American Review , '
in ...
E . P . Whipple , one of the ablest reviewers in this country , pays the following
merited compliment to the poetical genius of Mrs . Smith , in an article upon the '
Poets and Poetry of America , ' which appeared in the North American Review , '
in ...
Sida 104
... departed from among us ere he had fulfilled his mission and attained the
height of his ambition , The poet says , truly , “ Death loves a shining mark , ” for
among those of our native Poets who have been stricken down in the prime of life
, and ...
... departed from among us ere he had fulfilled his mission and attained the
height of his ambition , The poet says , truly , “ Death loves a shining mark , ” for
among those of our native Poets who have been stricken down in the prime of life
, and ...
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angels beautiful beneath birds bless born Bowdoin breast breath bright bring brow child clouds cold College comes dark dead dear death deep dream earth fair Faith fall fear feel flowers gentle give glory gone grave green hand hast hath hear heart heaven Hope hour human Immortality kind lady land leaves life's light lips literary live lone look meet memory mind morning native never night o'er pass poems Poets Portland published resided rest round shade shadows shore sing sleep smile song soon soul sound spirit spring star storm strain strange stream summer sweet talent tears tell thee thine things thou thought tone tree Twas voice volume wake waters wave wild wind wing woods young youth
Populära avsnitt
Sida 22 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
Sida 25 - THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath, Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior! 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!
Sida 14 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Sida 28 - THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.
Sida 2 - Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great ! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate...
Sida 26 - ... Uttered the oft-repeated prayer, A voice cried through the startled air Excelsior ! A traveller, by the faithful hound, Half-buried in the snow was found, Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device Excelsior ! There in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay, And from the sky, serene and far, A voice fell, like a falling star, Excelsior ! POEMS ON SLAVERY.
Sida 18 - I HAVE read, in some old marvellous tale, Some legend strange and vague, That a midnight host of spectres pale Beleaguered the walls of Prague. Beside the Moldau's rushing stream, With the wan moon overhead, There stood, as in an awful dream, The army of the dead.
Sida 20 - ALL houses wherein men have lived and died Are haunted houses. Through the open doors The harmless phantoms on their errands glide, With feet that make no sound upon the floors. We meet them at the doorway, on the stair, Along the passages they come and go, Impalpable impressions on the air, A sense of something moving to and fro. There are more guests at table than the hosts Invited ; the illuminated hall Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts, As silent as the pictures on the wall.
Sida 19 - I have read, in the marvellous heart of man, That strange and mystic scroll, That an army of phantoms, vast and wan, Beleaguer the human soul. Encamped beside Life's rushing stream, In Fancy's misty light, Gigantic shapes and shadows gleam Portentous through the night. Upon its midnight battle-ground The spectral camp is seen, And, with a sorrowful, deep sound, Flows the River of Life between. No other voice, nor sound is there, In the army of the grave ; No other challenge breaks the air, But the...
Sida 24 - We will be patient, and assuage the feeling We may not wholly stay ; By silence sanctifying, not concealing, The grief that must have way THE BUILDERS.
Bibliografisk information
| Titel | The Gift Book of Gems The Gift Book of Gems, S. Herbert Lancey |
| Bidragare | S. Herbert Lancey |
| Utgivare | David Bugbee & Company, 1856 |
| Original från | New York Public Library |
| Digitaliserad | 6 okt 2006 |
| Längd | 312 sidor |
| Exportera citat | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |