Golden Songs of the Golden StateA.C. McClurg & Company, 1917 - 153 pagini |
Alte ediții - Afișează-le pe toate
GOLDEN SONGS OF THE GOLDEN STA Marguerite Ogden Bigelow 188 Wilkinson Nu există previzualizare disponibilă - 2016 |
Golden Songs of the Golden State (Classic Reprint) Marguerite Wilkinson Nu există previzualizare disponibilă - 2018 |
GOLDEN SONGS OF THE GOLDEN STA Marguerite Ogden Bigelow 188 Wilkinson Nu există previzualizare disponibilă - 2016 |
Termeni și expresii frecvente
beauty bell Sang Gabriel beloved Old Glory birds blossom blow blue breath Bret Harte bright California CALIFORNIA SONG Canelo Charles Charles Keeler Clarence Urmy Clark Ashton Smith clatter and ring clouds Coyote dark Days of Forty-nine days of yore dead death desert dreams Edward Robeson Taylor Edwin Markham eyes fair feet fleur-de-lys flower foam gallop Gelett Burgess George Sterling gleam gold Golden Gate grace grass shall cover gray green hands heard heart is filled heaven hills Ina Coolbrith Joaquin Miller kiss land lift light Mahdah Marguerite Wilkinson Maxwell Anderson mist morning Mount Tamalpais mountains never night o'er pines poems poets poppies purple Richard Realf rose sand shadows shine silence sing singer skies smile snow song soul stars streams sunset sweet swift tell Of Gabriel thee thine thou trail trees valley vine voice waves wild wind wings Yosemite
Pasaje populare
Pagina 39 - Death shall reap the braver harvest," said the solemn-sounding drum. "But when won the coming battle, What of profit springs therefrom ? What if conquest, subjugation, Even greater ills become?" But the drum Answered: "Come! You must do the sum to prove it," said the Yankee-answering drum.
Pagina 89 - A FIRE-MIST and a planet, A crystal and a cell, A jellyfish and a saurian, And caves where the cavemen dwell; Then a sense of law and beauty, And a face turned from the clod — Some call it Evolution, And others call it God.
Pagina 51 - 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? Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave To have dominion over sea and...
Pagina 36 - BELLS of the Past, whose long-forgotten music Still fills the wide expanse, Tingeing the sober twilight of the Present With colour of romance ! I hear your call, and see the sun descending On rock and wave and sand, As down the coast the Mission voices, blending, Girdle the heathen land.
Pagina 52 - 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? 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?
Pagina 37 - I hear your call, and see the sun descending On rock and wave and sand, As down the coast the Mission voices, blending, Girdle the heathen land. Within the circle of your incantation No blight nor mildew falls; Nor fierce unrest, nor lust, nor low ambition Passes those airy walls. Borne on the swell of your long waves receding, I touch the farther past,— 1 see the dying glow of Spanish glory, The sunset dream and last!
Pagina 37 - O solemn bells ! whose consecrated masses Recall the faith of old, — O tinkling bells ! that lulled with twilight music The spiritual fold ! Your voices break and falter in the darkness, — Break, falter, and are still ; And veiled and mystic, like the Host descending, The sun sinks from the hill...
Pagina 90 - When the moon is new and thin, Into our hearts high yearnings Come welling and surging in, — Come from the mystic ocean, Whose rim no foot has trod, — Some of us call it longing, And others call it God. A picket frozen on duty, — A mother starved for her brood, — Socrates drinking the hemlock, And Jesus on the rood ; And millions who, humble and nameless, The straight, hard pathway trod, — Some call it consecration, And others call it God.
Pagina 51 - Pleiades? What the long reaches of the peaks of song, The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose? 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.
Pagina 47 - Room! room to turn round in, to breathe and be free, To grow to be giant, to sail as at sea With the speed of the wind on a steed with his mane To the wind, without pathway or route or a rein.