Gems for the Fireside: Comprising the Most Unique, Touching, Pithy, and Beautiful Literary Treasures from the Greatest Minds in the Realms of Poetry and Philosophy, Wit and Humor, Statesmanship and Religion

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A. W. Mills, 1883 - Всего страниц: 912

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Стр. 597 - How sleep the Brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there!
Стр. 205 - Nor man nor boy, Nor all that is at enmity with joy, Can utterly abolish or destroy ! Hence, in a season of calm weather, Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, — Can in a moment travel thither, And see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Стр. 259 - Thy waters washed them power while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: — not so thou; Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow; Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Стр. 156 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, . And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore...
Стр. 816 - More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Стр. 200 - THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth, And Melancholy marked him for her own.
Стр. 519 - 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. 258 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore ; There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar : I love not man the less, but nature more...
Стр. 276 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this "Song of the Shirt.
Стр. 545 - But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.

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