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ancient timepiece Annie of Tharaw AUTHOR OF HYPERION autumn beautiful beheld BELFRY OF BRUGES bells Beneath birds breathed bridge burgomaster CARILLON CATHEDRAL DOOR Charlemagne chimes choir cloud dark death dost dream drifting earth Flanders Fleece of Gold forever Forevermore Ghent Gleam golden hand Hans Sachs hear heart heaven hemlock tree HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW holy JULIUS MOSEN king of France labour land light loud lyre maiden fair Maximilian meadow brook mighty Minnesinger Minnewater Namur nest never night numbers Nuremberg o'er old Flemish city old Silenus once Pegnitz poem poet poet's quaint old Flemish quaint old town rain restless RESTLESS HEART rhymes rise river roar round Sang Scattered sculpture seaweed shadows silent Sleep slumbered song sorrow sound stands stars sweet thee Thou art thought toil tower town of Bruges Twelve Apostles Twelve Wise Masters village vision Vogelweide voice wandering Wartburg Wassail wild window yore youth
Стр. 80 - Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Стр. 78 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, ' As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist...
Стр. 100 - All are scattered now and fled, Some are married, some are dead; And when I ask, with throbs of pain, "Ah ! when shall they all meet again?
Стр. 80 - Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; Who through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer.
Стр. 42 - How beautiful is the rain! After the dust and heat, In the broad and fiery street, In the narrow lane, How beautiful is the rain! How it clatters along the roofs, Like the tramp of hoofs! How it gushes and struggles out From the throat of the overflowing spout!
Стр. 131 - THOUGH the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small ; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he alL TRUTH.
Стр. 97 - Halfway up the stairs it stands, And points and beckons with its hands From its case of massive oak, Like a monk, who, under his cloak, Crosses himself, and sighs, alas ' With sorrowful voice to all who pass, — " Forever — never ! Never — forever...
Стр. 31 - Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts: The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
Стр. 99 - Through days of sorrow and of mirth, Through days of death and days of birth, Through every swift vicissitude Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood, And as if, like God, it all things saw, It calmly repeats those words of awe, — " Forever — never! Never — forever...
Стр. 76 - Silver-flashing Surges of San Salvador; From the tumbling surf, that buries The Orkneyan skerries, Answering the hoarse Hebrides; And from wrecks of ships, and drifting Spars, uplifting On the desolate, rainy seas; — Ever drifting, drifting, drifting On the shifting Currents of the restless main; Till in sheltered coves, and reaches Of sandy beaches, All have found repose again.