Poems ... Reprinted from the American Octavo Edition, Том 2Hilliard, Gray, Little, and Wilkins., 1827 |
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Стр. 4
... hath power To call up shadows , in the silent hour , From the dim past , as from a wizard's cave ! So must it be ! -These skies above me spread , Are they my own soft skies ? -Ye rest not here , my dead ! IV . Ye far amidst the southern ...
... hath power To call up shadows , in the silent hour , From the dim past , as from a wizard's cave ! So must it be ! -These skies above me spread , Are they my own soft skies ? -Ye rest not here , my dead ! IV . Ye far amidst the southern ...
Стр. 5
... hath thy son brought from thee to the wilds ? He hath brought marks of torture and the chain , Traces of things which pass not as a breeze , A blighted name , dark thoughts , wrath , woe - thy gifts are these . VI . A blighted name ! —I ...
... hath thy son brought from thee to the wilds ? He hath brought marks of torture and the chain , Traces of things which pass not as a breeze , A blighted name , dark thoughts , wrath , woe - thy gifts are these . VI . A blighted name ! —I ...
Стр. 6
... hath mortal name , where God alone Speaks to the mighty waste , and through its heart is known ? VII . Is it not much that I may worship Him , With nought my spirit's breathings to control , And feel His presence in the vast , and dim ...
... hath mortal name , where God alone Speaks to the mighty waste , and through its heart is known ? VII . Is it not much that I may worship Him , With nought my spirit's breathings to control , And feel His presence in the vast , and dim ...
Стр. 7
... Thou shalt not feel thy bursting heart rebel As mine hath done ; nor bear what I have borne , Casting in falsehood's mould th ' indignant brow of scorn . X. This shall not be thy lot , my blessed THE FOREST SANCTUARY .
... Thou shalt not feel thy bursting heart rebel As mine hath done ; nor bear what I have borne , Casting in falsehood's mould th ' indignant brow of scorn . X. This shall not be thy lot , my blessed THE FOREST SANCTUARY .
Стр. 8
... hath clung , From branch to branch close wreaths of bondage throwing , Till the proud tree , before no tempest bowing , Hath shrunk and died , those serpent - folds among . Alas ! alas ! -what is it that I see ? An image of man's mind ...
... hath clung , From branch to branch close wreaths of bondage throwing , Till the proud tree , before no tempest bowing , Hath shrunk and died , those serpent - folds among . Alas ! alas ! -what is it that I see ? An image of man's mind ...
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art thou banners beauty beneath BERNARDO DEL CARPIO blue streams bowers breast breath breeze bright bright land brow burst call'd child dark dead death deep didst dreams dust dwell earth ev'n faded faint fair fair brow falchion fear flowers foam fount gaze gentle glance gleam gloom glorious glow gone grave green hath hear heard heart Heaven hour hush'd joyous Lake of Lucerne land leaves light lips lone look'd lovely sculpture lyre midst mighty mirth Moorish mournful night o'er thy Oronoco pale pass'd pines pour'd rest rills Rio verde round seem'd shades shadows shining shore silent sleep slumber smile soft soft eyes song soul sound Spain spear spirit stars stormy strain streams sunny sunny brow sweet sword tears thee thine things thou art Thou hast thou wert thought tone unto voice wave weep wild wind woods wouldst young
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Стр. 215 - And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Стр. 266 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath. And stars to set — but all — Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death ! THE LOST PLEIAD.
Стр. 181 - Yet more, the Depths have more ! — What wealth untold Far down, and shining through their stillness lies ! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal Argosies.
Стр. 265 - Death ! Day is for mortal care, Eve, for glad meetings round the joyous hearth, Night, for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer ; But all for thee, thou mightiest of the earth...
Стр. 305 - Speak, Father!" once again he cried, "If I may yet be gone!" —And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Стр. 258 - Their graves are severed far and wide, By mount, and stream, and sea. The same fond mother bent at night O'er each fair sleeping brow ; She had each folded flower in sight — Where are those dreamers now ? One, 'midst the forests of the West, By a dark stream is laid — The Indian knows his place of rest, Far in the cedar shade.
Стр. 215 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land ? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth ; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar ? Bright jewels of the mine ? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war ? — They sought a faith's pure shrine ! Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod ; They have left unstained what there they found, — Freedom to worship God.
Стр. 284 - And men stood breathless in their dread. And baffled in their skill — But One was there, who rose and said To the wild sea,
Стр. 289 - Thou tak'st through the dim church-aisle thy way, And its pillars from twilight flash forth to day, And its high pale tombs, with their trophies old, Are bathed in a flood as of burning gold.
Стр. 319 - Now in thy youth, beseech of Him Who giveth, upbraiding' not; That his light in thy heart become not dim, And his love be unforgot ; And thy God, in the darkest of days, will be, Greenness, and beauty, and strength to thee...