Voices of the Night: Ballads and Other Poems

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Сторінка 10 - TELL me not, in mournful numbers, " Life is but an empty dream ! " For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; " Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Сторінка 86 - Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the northeast, The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast. Down came the storm, and smote amain The vessel in its strength ; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cable's length. "Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale That ever wind did blow.
Сторінка 23 - O what a glory doth this world put on For him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks On duties well performed, and days well spent ! For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leaves Shall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings. He shall so hear the solemn hymn, that Death Has lifted up for all, that he shall go To his long resting-place without a tear.
Сторінка 9 - I HEARD the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls! I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light From the celestial walls ! I felt her presence, by its spell of might, Stoop o'er me from above ;' The calm, majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I love.
Сторінка 110 - Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done. Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought ! ENDYMION.
Сторінка 12 - My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," The reaper said, and smiled ; " Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child. " They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.
Сторінка 19 - Through woods and mountain passes The winds, like anthems, roll ; They are chanting solemn masses, Singing, " Pray for this poor soul, Pray, — pray!" And the hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain...
Сторінка 10 - That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, Like some old poet's rhymes. From the cool cisterns of the midnight air My spirit drank repose ; The fountain of perpetual peace flows there, — From those deep cisterns flows. O holy Night ! from thee I learn to bear What man has borne before ! Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care, And they complain no more.
Сторінка 11 - In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle ! Be a hero in the strife...
Сторінка 88 - The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes ; And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed. On the billows fall and rise. r Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow ! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe ! HW LONGFELLOW.

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