St. Nicholas, Том 9,Часть 1

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Scribner & Company, 1882
 

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Стр. 408 - Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This city now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare Ships, towers, domes, theatres. and temples lie Open unto the fields and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will:...
Стр. 408 - Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray: And, when I crossed the wild, I chanced to see at break of day . The solitary child. No mate, no comrade Lucy knew; She dwelt on a wide moor, — The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door!
Стр. 408 - But never reached the town. The wretched parents all that night Went shouting far and wide; But there was neither sound nor sight To serve them for a guide. At day-break on a hill they stood That overlooked the moor; And thence they saw the bridge of wood, A furlong from their door. They wept — and, turning homeward, cried, "In heaven we all shall meet;" — When in the snow the mother spied The print of Lucy's feet.
Стр. 420 - Let the soldier be abroad if he will; he can do nothing in this age. There is another personage abroad — a personage less imposing — in the eyes of some perhaps insignificant. The schoolmaster is abroad, and I trust to him, armed with his primer, against the soldier in full military array.
Стр. 408 - But the sweet face of Lucy Gray Will never more be seen. 'To-night will be a stormy night — You to the town must go; And take a lantern, Child, to light Your mother through the snow.
Стр. 142 - And the life-blood is ebbing and plashing. All quiet along the Potomac to-night— No sound save the rush of the river— While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead: The picket's off duty for ever.
Стр. 408 - EARTH has not anything to show more fair; Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty : This city now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning; — silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendor, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
Стр. 62 - LORD, thou hast given me a cell Wherein to dwell, A little house, whose humble roof Is weatherproof, Under the spars of which I lie Both soft and dry ; Where thou, my chamber for to ward. Hast set a guard Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep ! Me while I sleep. Low is my porch, as is my fate, Both void of state ; And yet the threshold of my door < Is worn by th' poor, Who thither come and freely get Good words or meat.
Стр. 62 - Twice ten for one; Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay Her egg each day; Besides, my healthful ewes to...
Стр. 142 - ... vows Were pledged to be ever unbroken ; Then, drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, He dashes off tears that are welling, And gathers his gun closer up to its place, As if to keep down the heart-swelling.

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