Songs of Three CenturiesJohn Greenleaf Whittier Houghton, Mifflin & Company, 1876 - 352 pagini From Shakespeare to Milton -- From Dryden to Burns -- From Wordsworth to Longfellow. |
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Pagina 69
... dream that thou art she . My mother ! when I learned that thou wast dead , Say , wast thou conscious of the tears 1 shed ? Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son , Wretch even then , life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gav'st me ...
... dream that thou art she . My mother ! when I learned that thou wast dead , Say , wast thou conscious of the tears 1 shed ? Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son , Wretch even then , life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gav'st me ...
Pagina 91
... dream of pain , With joy its mortal feelings to re- sign ; Yet all its living essence to retain , The undying energy of strength divine ! powers , - To quit the burdens of its earthly days , To give to nature all her borrowed Ethereal ...
... dream of pain , With joy its mortal feelings to re- sign ; Yet all its living essence to retain , The undying energy of strength divine ! powers , - To quit the burdens of its earthly days , To give to nature all her borrowed Ethereal ...
Pagina 98
... dream ? Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting : The soul that rises with us , our life's star , Hath had elsewhere its setting , And cometh from afar ; Not in entire forgetfulness , And not in utter nakedness , But trailing clouds ...
... dream ? Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting : The soul that rises with us , our life's star , Hath had elsewhere its setting , And cometh from afar ; Not in entire forgetfulness , And not in utter nakedness , But trailing clouds ...
Pagina 97
... dream . It is not now as it hath been of yore ; - Turn wheresoe'er I may , By night or day , The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep , ― No more shall grief of mine the season wrong : I hear the echoes through the mountains ...
... dream . It is not now as it hath been of yore ; - Turn wheresoe'er I may , By night or day , The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep , ― No more shall grief of mine the season wrong : I hear the echoes through the mountains ...
Pagina 98
... dream ? Our birth is but a sleep and a forget- ting : The soul that rises with us , our life's star , Hath had elsewhere its setting , And cometh from afar ; Not in entire forgetfulness , And not in utter nakedness , But trailing clouds ...
... dream ? Our birth is but a sleep and a forget- ting : The soul that rises with us , our life's star , Hath had elsewhere its setting , And cometh from afar ; Not in entire forgetfulness , And not in utter nakedness , But trailing clouds ...
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Termeni și expresii frecvente
angels beauty bells beneath bird blessed bliss bonnie breast breath bright brow busk calm cheek cloud dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth EDMUND SPENSER Edom evermore eyes face fair fear flowers frae Glenlogie glory golden grace grave green Grongar Hill hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill holy hour Hymn Inchcape Rock Jackdaw JOHN KEATS JOHN MILTON Kilmeny kissed lady land lassie light live lonely look Lord maun moon morning never night o'er pale praise prayer rest Robin Gray rose round Saint Agnes SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE shade shine shore sigh sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought tree vale voice wandering waves weary ween weep wild wind wings Yarrow
Pasaje populare
Pagina 94 - What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind.
Pagina 144 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.
Pagina 179 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, — The desert and illimitable air, — Lone wandering, but not lost, All day thy wings have fanned At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere ; Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Pagina 120 - Teach us, sprite or bird, what sweet thoughts are thine : I have never heard praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
Pagina 94 - The clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober coloring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality : Another race hath been, and other palms are won. Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, — To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Pagina 34 - On His Blindness When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide, "Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?
Pagina 94 - Hence in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be. Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither; Can in a moment travel thither, And see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Pagina 134 - And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold; Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" — The vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord.
Pagina 52 - Other refuge have I none, Hangs my helpless soul on thee ; Leave, ah ! leave me not alone ; Still support and comfort me ! All my trust on thee is stayed, All my help from thee I bring ; Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of thy wing.
Pagina 134 - ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold: Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord.