Songs in Many Keys

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Ticknor and Fields, 1862 - Всего страниц: 308
 

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Стр. 198 - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main; The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming Lair.
Стр. 199 - Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap forlorn ! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn ! While on mine ear it rings, Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings :Build thee more stately mansions...
Стр. 170 - Gray temples at twenty?" — Yes! white if we please; Where the snow-flakes fall thickest there's nothing can freeze! Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake!
Стр. 171 - That could harness a team with a logical chain; When he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire, We called him "The Justice,
Стр. 172 - And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith; Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith; But he shouted a song for the brave and the free — Just read on his medal, "My country,
Стр. 239 - Sun of our life, Thy quickening ray Sheds on our path the glow of day; Star of our hope, Thy softened light Cheers the long watches of the night.
Стр. 170 - Hahnsum kerridge" they called it then. Eighteen hundred and twenty came; Running as usual; much, the same. Thirty and forty at last arrive, And then come fifty, and fifty-five. Little of all we value here Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year Without both feeling and looking queer. In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth, So far as I know, but a tree and truth. This is a moral that runs at large; (Take it. You're welcome. No extra charge.) First of November, the Earthquake-day.
Стр. 234 - THE LIVING TEMPLE. Not in the world of light alone, Where God has built his blazing throne, Nor yet alone in earth below, With belted seas that come and go, And endless isles of sunlit green, Is all thy Maker's glory seen: Look in upon thy wondrous frame, — Eternal wisdom still the same...
Стр. 234 - The smooth, soft air with pulse-like waves Flows murmuring through its hidden caves, ] ° Whose streams of brightening purple rush. Fired with a new and livelier blush. While all their burden of decay The ebbing current steals away, And red with Nature's flame they start From the warm fountains of the heart.
Стр. 138 - We praise him, not for gifts divine, — His Muse was born of woman, — His manhood breathes in every line, — Was ever heart more human ? We love him, praise him, just for this : In every form and feature, Through wealth and want, through woe and bliss, He saw his fellow-creature...

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