Local and National Poets of America: With Biographical Sketches and Choice Selections from Over One Thousand Living American Poets |
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Стр. 34
The zephyrs sang unto the sea , The golden stars were beaming , While hope ,
like bird on pinions free , Her sweetest dream was dreaming . Endymion on the
moonlit hills Ne ' er bathed in Cynthia ' s smiling , And felt the sweet en rapturing
...
The zephyrs sang unto the sea , The golden stars were beaming , While hope ,
like bird on pinions free , Her sweetest dream was dreaming . Endymion on the
moonlit hills Ne ' er bathed in Cynthia ' s smiling , And felt the sweet en rapturing
...
Стр. 92
... Bring back the golden beaming Of childhood ' s hopes and fears , Bring back
the silver gleaming Of early gleeful years ... that now are rare ; Bring back the
eager yearning For river dale and hill , Where childish hope was burning
EXTRACT .
... Bring back the golden beaming Of childhood ' s hopes and fears , Bring back
the silver gleaming Of early gleeful years ... that now are rare ; Bring back the
eager yearning For river dale and hill , Where childish hope was burning
EXTRACT .
Стр. 106
Thou ' rt victor , let thy slave forbid Thou be elate , I cannot hope as once I did ,
Too late , too late . WILLLAM ROBERT FISHER . sand lines , and has written ten
times as much more since that time , of which there are a number of translations ...
Thou ' rt victor , let thy slave forbid Thou be elate , I cannot hope as once I did ,
Too late , too late . WILLLAM ROBERT FISHER . sand lines , and has written ten
times as much more since that time , of which there are a number of translations ...
Стр. 107
The ancestors , may be , Of pretty Bridget Nee Were barons very grand and very
harsh ; I really hope ' tis so , For ' twould pain me much to know They were
ordinary trotters of the marsh . The Yankee girls can say Whatever things they
may ...
The ancestors , may be , Of pretty Bridget Nee Were barons very grand and very
harsh ; I really hope ' tis so , For ' twould pain me much to know They were
ordinary trotters of the marsh . The Yankee girls can say Whatever things they
may ...
Стр. 110
Tis a whispered prayer - a hope – a fear For the absent one , or the darling near ,
And no earthly sound can reach as high As a mother ' s prayer – a mother ' s sigh
! ” Æoliann breezes speed the swift - winged hours . Our time of meeting may ...
Tis a whispered prayer - a hope – a fear For the absent one , or the darling near ,
And no earthly sound can reach as high As a mother ' s prayer – a mother ' s sigh
! ” Æoliann breezes speed the swift - winged hours . Our time of meeting may ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
angels appeared beauty birds bless blue BORN breath bright bring clouds cold comes dark dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair fall father fear feel feet flowers friends give gold golden gone grow hand happy head hear heart heaven hills hope hour kiss lady land leading leaves life's light lips live look meet Miss morning mother never night o'er once pain pass past peace poems published pure received resides rest rose round seems shine sigh sing sleep smile song soon sorrow soul spirit spring stand stars sweet tears tell thee things thou thought trees true turn voice wait wander waves weary wild winds written young youth
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Стр. 194 - AFOOT and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms, Strong and content I travel the open road.
Стр. 66 - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.
Стр. 43 - Prince thou art, — the grown-up man Only is republican, Let the million-dollared ride! Barefoot, trudging at his side, Thou hast more than he can buy In the reach of ear and eye, — Outward sunshine, inward joy: Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!
Стр. 130 - It was August the third; And quite soft was the skies; Which it might be inferred That Ah Sin was likewise; Yet he played it that day upon William And me in a way I despise.
Стр. 43 - Laughed the brook for my delight Through the day and through the night, Whispering at the garden wall, Talked with, me from fall to fall ; Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond, Mine the walnut slopes beyond, Mine, on bending orchard trees, Apples of Hesperides ! Still as my horizon grew, Larger grew my riches too ; All the world I saw or knew Seemed a complex Chinese toy, Fashioned for a barefoot boy...
Стр. 801 - I stay my haste, I make delays; For what avails this eager pace? I stand amid the eternal ways, And what is mine shall know my face. Asleep, awake, by night or day, The friends I seek are seeking me; No wind can drive my bark astray,. Nor change the tide of destiny. What matter if I stand alone? I wait with joy the coming years ; My heart shall reap where it has sown, And garner up its fruit of tears.
Стр. 66 - That he had a Roman nose, And his cheek was like a rose In the snow. 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 ! And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree • In the spring, Let them smile, as I do now, At the old forsaken bough Where I cling.
Стр. 98 - And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace; The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives...
Стр. 98 - The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world and she to her nest,— In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best?
Стр. 65 - THE LAST LEAF I SAw him once before, As he passed by the door; And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan ; And he shakes his feeble head. That it seems as if he said,