The Poets of America: Illustrated by One of Her Painters...John Keese C. Tilt, 1840 - Всего страниц: 284 |
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Стр. 22
... lily - king's behest . For this the shadowy tribes of air To the elfin court must haste away : · And now they stand expectant there , To hear the doom of the Culprit Fay . THE CULPRIT FAY . VI . The throne was reared.
... lily - king's behest . For this the shadowy tribes of air To the elfin court must haste away : · And now they stand expectant there , To hear the doom of the Culprit Fay . THE CULPRIT FAY . VI . The throne was reared.
Стр. 23
... throne was reared upon the grass Of spice - wood and of sassafras ; On pillars of mottled tortoise - shell Hung the burnished canopy- And o'er it gorgeous curtains fell Of the tulip's crimson drapery . The monarch sat on his judgment ...
... throne was reared upon the grass Of spice - wood and of sassafras ; On pillars of mottled tortoise - shell Hung the burnished canopy- And o'er it gorgeous curtains fell Of the tulip's crimson drapery . The monarch sat on his judgment ...
Стр. 54
... round the Throne on high . In war renowned , in peace sublime , He moves in greatness and in grace ; His power subduing space and time , Links realm to realm , and race to race . EPITHALAMIUM . BY J. G. C. BRAINARD . I SAW.
... round the Throne on high . In war renowned , in peace sublime , He moves in greatness and in grace ; His power subduing space and time , Links realm to realm , and race to race . EPITHALAMIUM . BY J. G. C. BRAINARD . I SAW.
Стр. 101
... throne . GOD of the world ! the hour must come And Nature's self to dust return ; Her crumbling altars must decay Her incense fires shall cease to burn ; But still her grand and lovely scenes Have made man's warmest praises flow ; For ...
... throne . GOD of the world ! the hour must come And Nature's self to dust return ; Her crumbling altars must decay Her incense fires shall cease to burn ; But still her grand and lovely scenes Have made man's warmest praises flow ; For ...
Стр. 139
... throne- a king ; As wild his thoughts , and gay of wing , As Eden's garden bird . At midnight , in the forest shades , Bozzaris ranged his Suliote band , True as the steel of their tried blades , Heroes in heart and hand . There had the ...
... throne- a king ; As wild his thoughts , and gay of wing , As Eden's garden bird . At midnight , in the forest shades , Bozzaris ranged his Suliote band , True as the steel of their tried blades , Heroes in heart and hand . There had the ...
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ALARIC ALNWICK CASTLE beam beauty bending beneath bird blue bosom bough bowers BOZZARIS breast breath breeze bright brow charm cheek cloud courser crimson CULPRIT FAY dark death deep dream earth echo elfin fading fair fairy float flowers forest gale gaze gems gentle glance gleam glorious glory glow golden Greece green grove hath hear heard heart heaven hills hour land leap light lonely lyre morning N. P. WILLIS night o'er old oaken bucket pale passed Pindus purple R. H. DANA rock rose round scene shade SHAKSPEARE ODE shine shore sigh silent moon silver sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream summer sweet swelling sylphs tear THANATOPSIS thee thine thou art thoughts throne tone tree Twas VISIGOTH VISIT FROM ST voice wandering water-sprites waters wave wild winds wing witch-hazel woods young
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Стр. 75 - TO him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Стр. 59 - There is a power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Стр. 78 - Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those, who in their turn shall follow them. 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.
Стр. 136 - But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Like a staff, And a crook is in his back, And a melancholy crack In his laugh. I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here ; But the old three-cornered hat, And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer...
Стр. 77 - 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.
Стр. 104 - He was chubby and plump ; a right jolly old elf; And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings ; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle , But I heard him exclaim,...
Стр. 213 - Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? Alas ! they all are in their graves ; the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie ; but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy Dearth the lovely ones again.
Стр. 102 - Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there...
Стр. 104 - As I drew in my head and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot...
Стр. 49 - Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frighted waves rush wildly back Before the broadside's reeling rack, Each dying wanderer of the sea Shall look at once to heaven and thee, And smile to see thy splendors fly In triumph o'er his closing eye.