The Man with the Hoe: And Other PoemsDoubleday & McClure Company, 1900 - 114 pagini |
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Pagina 2
... ancient deep ? Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf There is no shape more terrible than this- More tongued with censure of the world's blind greed- More filled with signs and portents for the soul— More fraught with menace to ...
... ancient deep ? Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf There is no shape more terrible than this- More tongued with censure of the world's blind greed- More filled with signs and portents for the soul— More fraught with menace to ...
Pagina 4
... ancient road of Hell , Withered and eyeless , chanting to the moon Snatches of song they sang to her of old Upon the lighted roofs of Nineveh . And then her voice rang out with rattling laugh : " The bugles ! they are crying back again ...
... ancient road of Hell , Withered and eyeless , chanting to the moon Snatches of song they sang to her of old Upon the lighted roofs of Nineveh . And then her voice rang out with rattling laugh : " The bugles ! they are crying back again ...
Pagina 5
... ancient road , While cities turned to dust upon the Earth Rise through her whirling brain to live again— Babbles all night , and when her voice is dead Her weary lips beat on without a sound . · Brotherhood The crest and crowning of all ...
... ancient road , While cities turned to dust upon the Earth Rise through her whirling brain to live again— Babbles all night , and when her voice is dead Her weary lips beat on without a sound . · Brotherhood The crest and crowning of all ...
Pagina 29
... the worth of all our ancient creeds , If here at the end of ages this is all- A white face floating in the whirling ball , A dead face plashing in the river reeds ? The Paymaster There is a sacred Something on all ways— 29.
... the worth of all our ancient creeds , If here at the end of ages this is all- A white face floating in the whirling ball , A dead face plashing in the river reeds ? The Paymaster There is a sacred Something on all ways— 29.
Pagina 47
... news , While cargoes pile the piers , a moon - white heap- Budgets of dream - dust , merchandise of song , Wreckage of hope and packs of ancient wrong , The Wharf of Dreams Nepenthes gathered from a secret strand. 47 The Wharf of Dreams,
... news , While cargoes pile the piers , a moon - white heap- Budgets of dream - dust , merchandise of song , Wreckage of hope and packs of ancient wrong , The Wharf of Dreams Nepenthes gathered from a secret strand. 47 The Wharf of Dreams,
Alte ediții - Afișează-le pe toate
The Man With the Hoe: And Other Poems (Classic Reprint) Edwin Markham Nu există previzualizare disponibilă - 2015 |
The Man with the Hoe: And Other Poems - Scholar's Choice Edition Markham Edwin Nu există previzualizare disponibilă - 2015 |
Termeni și expresii frecvente
afar aswing Babylon billow bird blowing bough break breath build cherubim cliff comes cries dark darken dawn deep Desire of Nations Divine Mother dream EDWIN MARKHAM face fading feet field fire fleeing flinging flower flutes follow footfall Furrow glad glory gnome gray Greece grief Gulf hands hark HARVARD COLLEGE hear heart heavens hills homeless hour hurrying hush Hylas kings land leafy Life's lifted light lightly look Lord Lord of Light Louise Michel lyre Lyric mighty moon morning Mystery night Nineveh ocean peaks phantoms Pleiad Poet poppy rapture road rock rose rush Satyr Seven Valleys shadow shape shout silent Sing skies sleep softly Songs Will Perish soul star stir swiftening tell thee things Thou thrush Thy beauty Toilers touch valley voice Wail Wandering Dead weary whirlwind whisper wild Wild hearts wind windy wings woodland youth
Pasaje populare
Pagina 103 - And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness... So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them...
Pagina 73 - O cities, grind: I leave you a blur behind. I am lifted elate — the skies expand: Here the world's heaped gold is a pile of sand. Let them weary and work in their narrow walls: I ride with the voices of waterfalls!
Pagina 2 - BOWED by the weight of centuries he leans Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, The emptiness of ages in his face, And on his back the burden of the world. Who made him dead to rapture and despair, A thing that grieves not and that never hopes, Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox? Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw? Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow? Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?
Pagina 3 - Through this dread shape the suffering ages look; Time's tragedy is in that aching stoop; Through this dread shape humanity betrayed, Plundered, profaned and disinherited, Cries protest to the Judges of the World, A protest that is also prophecy. O masters, lords and rulers in all lands, Is this the handiwork you give to God, This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched? How will you ever straighten up this shape; Touch it again with immortality; Give back the upward looking and the light; Rebuild...
Pagina 3 - O masters, lords, and rulers in all lands, How will the Future reckon with this Man? How answer his brute question in that hour When whirlwinds of rebellion shake all shores? How will it be with kingdoms and with kings — With those who shaped him to the thing he is — When this dumb Terror shall rise to judge the world, After the silence of the centuries?
Pagina 13 - Teach me, Father, how to go Softly as the grasses grow; Hush my soul to meet the shock Of the wild world as a rock; But my spirit, propt with power, Make as simple as a flower...
Pagina 14 - Teach me, Father, how to be Kind and patient as a tree. Joyfully the crickets croon Under shady oak at noon; Beetle on his mission bent Tarries in that cooling tent. Let me also cheer a spot — Hidden field or garden grot — Place where passing souls can rest On the way and be their best.
Pagina 6 - The crest and crowning of all good, Life's final star, is Brotherhood...
Pagina 4 - The bugles ! they are crying back again — Bugles that broke the nights of Babylon, And then went crying on through Nineveh. Stand back, ye trembling messengers of ill ! Women, let go my hair : I am the Queen, A whirlwind and a blaze of swords to quell Insurgent cities. Let the iron tread Of armies shake the earth. Look, lofty towers: Assyria goes by upon the wind...
Pagina 3 - How will you ever straighten up this shape; Touch it again with immortality; Give back the upward looking and the light; Rebuild in it the music and the dream; Make right the immemorial infamies, Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?