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Книги Книги 1 - 10 из 165 по запросу Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning....
" 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. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson... "
The Household Book of Poetry - Стр. 597
авторы: Charles Anderson Dana - 1878 - Страниц: 28
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The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Том 43

1844
...choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave...sounding anvil shaped, Each burning deed and thought ! GARDENING HINTS FOR FEBRUARY. HOTHOUSES, CONSERYATORIES, &C. Conservatory. — Where forced flowers...
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Bentley's Miscellany, Том 9

Charles Dickens, William Harrison Ainsworth, Albert Smith - 1841
...of her once more, How in her grave she lies, And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear from out his eyes. Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, Onward through...friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the sounding forge of Life Our fortunes must be wrought, Thus on its sounding anvil shaped, Each burning...
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Bentley's Miscellany, Том 7

1841
...of her once more, How in her grave she lies, And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear from out his eyes. Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, Onward through...friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the sounding forge of Life Our fortunes must be wrought, Thus on its sounding anvil shaped, Each burning...
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Ballads and Other Poems

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - 1842 - Страниц: 132
...choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave...sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought ! ENDYMION. THE rising moon has hid the stars ; Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape...
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The Monthly Review

1842
...choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave...my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught 1 Thus at the flaming forge of Life Our fortunes must be wrought, Thus on its sounding anvil shaped...
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The Poets and Poetry of America: With an Historical Introduction

Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1842 - Страниц: 468
...once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyeg. Toiling — rejoicing — sorrowing — Onward through...flaming forge of Life Our fortunes must be wrought, 300 301 EXCELSIOR. THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village pass'd A youth,...
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Voices of the Night

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - 1843 - Страниц: 144
...choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave...sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought ! ENDYMION. THE rising moon has hid the stars ; Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape...
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The United States Democratic Review, Том 13

1843
...choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise I He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave...sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought !" "THE REGGAR. A beggar through the world am I, From place to place I wander by ; Fill up my pilgrim's...
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The United States Magazine and Democratic Review, Том 13

1843
...makes his heart rejoice. It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs most think of her once more, How in the grave she lies...sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought !" "THE BEGGAR. A beggar through the world am I, From place to place I wander by ; Fill up my pilgrim's...
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Readings in American Poetry: For the Use of Schools

Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1843 - Страниц: 264
...sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted — something done, Has earn'da night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy...sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought. SUNSET IN SEPTEMBER. BY CAKLOS WII.COX. THE sun now rests upon the mountain tops — Begins to sink...
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