Oregon LiteratureJ. K. Gill, 1902 - 253 pagini |
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Pagina 8
... sing , and they found time for this recreation ; and they sang more in their homes and in their fields then than they do now . If at no other time , they sang on their way to and from labor ; and every home became a sort of musical ...
... sing , and they found time for this recreation ; and they sang more in their homes and in their fields then than they do now . If at no other time , they sang on their way to and from labor ; and every home became a sort of musical ...
Pagina 9
... sing- ing master , or a leader selected from the membership . For music they were restricted to old melodies found in " Carmina Sacra , " the " New Lute of Zion , " the " Har- mony , " the " Triumph , " the " Key Note , " Golden Wreath ...
... sing- ing master , or a leader selected from the membership . For music they were restricted to old melodies found in " Carmina Sacra , " the " New Lute of Zion , " the " Har- mony , " the " Triumph , " the " Key Note , " Golden Wreath ...
Pagina 41
... sing no more ; As you have heard some sweetest bird The more because its song is o'er , Yet brighter up the street of stars Still blazed and burned and beckoned Mars . And then the king came , king of thought . King David with his harp ...
... sing no more ; As you have heard some sweetest bird The more because its song is o'er , Yet brighter up the street of stars Still blazed and burned and beckoned Mars . And then the king came , king of thought . King David with his harp ...
Pagina 43
... sing , And life lies girt with a golden ring . These Fortunate Isles , they are not so far— They lie within reach of the lowliest door ; You can see them gleam by the twilight star , You can hear them sing by the moon's white shore- Nay ...
... sing , And life lies girt with a golden ring . These Fortunate Isles , they are not so far— They lie within reach of the lowliest door ; You can see them gleam by the twilight star , You can hear them sing by the moon's white shore- Nay ...
Pagina 49
... , and she began to sing to a delighted people . Thus she became a master with the rein and the pen . True poetry is what the muse has learned in nature without the aid of books - simply direct communion with Mrs. Ella Higginson 49.
... , and she began to sing to a delighted people . Thus she became a master with the rein and the pen . True poetry is what the muse has learned in nature without the aid of books - simply direct communion with Mrs. Ella Higginson 49.
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Abigail Scott Duniway American battle beautiful birds Boabdil brave Bray bright chief College Corvallis dark dead death deep delight dream earth Eastern Oregon Edward Dickinson Baker Edwin Markham eyes face father Finck fire flowers forever Fortunate Isles gold golden hand Harold Welch heard heart heaven Higginson hill Homer Davenport human Indians inspired Joaquin Miller land Lane light lips literary literature lives look mind mountain Muza Nesmith never night o'er ocean Oregon City Oregonian Pacific Parvin peace pioneer plain poem poet poetry Portland rain rocks rose sail Schottische shore silent Simpson sing sleep snow song soul spirit stars stood story stream sweet thee things thou thought Tohomish tongue tribes United States Senator UNIV valley voice Wallis Nash warriors waves West wild Willamette winds wonderful words written
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Pagina 42 - Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!'" They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow, Until at last the blanched mate said, "Why, now not even God would know Should I and all my men fall dead. These very winds forget their way, For God from these dread seas is gone. Now speak, brave Admiral, speak and say"— He said: "Sail on! sail on! and on!
Pagina 44 - ... Is this the thing the Lord God made and gave To have dominion over sea and land; To trace the stars and search the heavens for power; To feel the passion of eternity? Is this the dream He dreamed who shaped the suns And marked their ways upon the ancient deep? Down all the caverns of Hell to their last gulf There is no shape more terrible than this...
Pagina 43 - Sail on! sail on! and on!" They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate: "This mad sea shows his teeth to-night. He curls his lip, he lies in wait, With lifted teeth, as if to bite! Brave Admiral, say but one good word: What shall we do when hope is gone?" The words leapt as a leaping sword: "Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!
Pagina 195 - And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the ' tongue among our members, that it defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature; and it is set on fire of hell.
Pagina 42 - Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind, the Gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghost of shores, Before him only shoreless seas. The good mate said:'' Now must we pray, For lo! the very stars are gone. Brave Admiral, speak, what shall I say?
Pagina 35 - In men whom men condemn as ill I find so much of goodness still, In men whom men pronounce divine I find so much of sin and blot, I hesitate to draw a line Between the two, where God has not.
Pagina 44 - 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.
Pagina 43 - Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!" Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck, And peered through darkness. Ah, that night Of all dark nights! And then a speck— A light! A light! A light! A light! It grew, a starlit flag unfurled! It grew to be Time's burst of dawn. He gained a world; he gave that world Its grandest lesson: "On! sail on!
Pagina 7 - The charming landscape which I saw this morning is indubitably made up of some twenty or thirty farms. Miller owns this field, Locke that, and Manning the woodland beyond. But none of them owns the landscape. There is a property in the horizon which no man has but he whose eye can integrate all the parts, that is, the poet.
Pagina 44 - 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?