Poems of Oliver Wendell Holmes: With Numerous Illustrations

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1887 - Всего страниц: 357
 

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Стр. 170 - Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, Steel of the finest, bright and blue ; Thoroughbrace bison-skin, thick and wide ; Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide Found in the pit when the tanner died. That was the way he
Стр. 159 - Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings: Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul! As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
Стр. 170 - So the Deacon inquired of the village folk Where he could find the strongest oak, That couldn't be split nor bent nor broke, — That was for spokes and floor and sills; He sent for lancewood to make the thills; The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees, The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, But lasts like iron for things like these; The hubs of logs from...
Стр. 156 - Up with our banner bright, Sprinkled with starry light, Spread its fair emblems from mountain to shore, While through the sounding sky Loud rings the Nation's cry, Union and Liberty! One evermore!
Стр. 176 - Though long the weary way we tread, And sorrow crown each lingering year, No path we shun, no darkness dread, Our hearts still whispering, Thou art near...
Стр. 169 - I might desire Some shawls of true cashmere, — Some marrowy crapes of China silk, Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk. I would not have the horse I drive So fast that folks must stop and stare : An easy gait — two, forty-five — Suits me; I do not care; — Perhaps, for just a single spurt, Some seconds less would do no hurt. Of pictures, I should like to own Titians and Raphaels three or four. — I love so much their style and tone, — One Turner...
Стр. 1 - And burst the cannon's roar ; — The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more ! Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's...
Стр. 171 - But nothing local as one may say. There couldn't be, — for the Deacon's art Had made it so like in every part That there wasn'ta chance for one to start, For the wheels were just as strong as the thills, And the floor was just as strong as the sills And the panels just as strong as the floor, And the whipple-tree neither less nor more...
Стр. 154 - Behold its streaming rays unite, One mingling flood of braided light, — The red that fires the Southern rose, With spotless white from Northern snows, And, spangled o'er its azure, see The sister Stars of Liberty ! Then hail the banner of the free, The starry Flower of Liberty...
Стр. 172 - You see, of course, if you're not a dunce, How it went to pieces all at once — All at once, and nothing first — Just as bubbles do when they burst.

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