The Man with the Hoe: And Other PoemsDoubleday & McClure Company, 1900 - 114 pagini |
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Pagina 26
... Calls them to the Dim Land discomforted ; For down the leafy ways her white feet took , Lightly the newly broken roses shook- Was it the wind disturbed each rosy head ? God ! was it joy or sorrow in her face— That quiet face ? Had it ...
... Calls them to the Dim Land discomforted ; For down the leafy ways her white feet took , Lightly the newly broken roses shook- Was it the wind disturbed each rosy head ? God ! was it joy or sorrow in her face— That quiet face ? Had it ...
Pagina 60
... calls me on from dell to dell ? I hear the voice - it wanders in a dream Now in the grove , now on the hill , now on the fading stream . Lead on you know the way— - Lead on to Arcady , O'er fields asleep ; by river bank abrim ; Down ...
... calls me on from dell to dell ? I hear the voice - it wanders in a dream Now in the grove , now on the hill , now on the fading stream . Lead on you know the way— - Lead on to Arcady , O'er fields asleep ; by river bank abrim ; Down ...
Pagina 64
... Calls memories back on their path apace ; Sends desperate thoughts to the soul's dim place . Time murders our youth with his sorrow and sin , And pushes us on to the windowless inn . A Satyr Song I know by the stir of the 64.
... Calls memories back on their path apace ; Sends desperate thoughts to the soul's dim place . Time murders our youth with his sorrow and sin , And pushes us on to the windowless inn . A Satyr Song I know by the stir of the 64.
Pagina 65
... she flies on before like a voice In the vale of sleep . I follow the print of her feet In the wild river bed , And lo , she calls gleefully down From a cliff overhead . A Cry in the Night Wail , wail , wail 65 A Satyr Song,
... she flies on before like a voice In the vale of sleep . I follow the print of her feet In the wild river bed , And lo , she calls gleefully down From a cliff overhead . A Cry in the Night Wail , wail , wail 65 A Satyr Song,
Pagina 91
... call , And so I ask no man to praise my song , But I would have him build it in his soul ; For that great praise would make me glad and strong , And build the poem to a perfect whole . There comes a pitiless cry from the oppressed- A ...
... call , And so I ask no man to praise my song , But I would have him build it in his soul ; For that great praise would make me glad and strong , And build the poem to a perfect whole . There comes a pitiless cry from the oppressed- A ...
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?