Specimens of the American PoetsT. and J. Allman, 1822 - 283 стор. |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 27
Сторінка
... breath was drawn , or boyhood's days Of happiness , were pass'd beneath that sun , That in his manhood's prime can calmly gaze Upon that bay , or on that mountain stand , Nor feel the prouder of his native land . From the Ewald Flügel ...
... breath was drawn , or boyhood's days Of happiness , were pass'd beneath that sun , That in his manhood's prime can calmly gaze Upon that bay , or on that mountain stand , Nor feel the prouder of his native land . From the Ewald Flügel ...
Сторінка 27
... breath ; The royal lion leaves his desert lair , And , crouching , listens when she treads the air ; And man , by wilder impulse driven to ill , Is tamed , and led by this Enchantress still . Who ne'er has felt her hand assuasive steal ...
... breath ; The royal lion leaves his desert lair , And , crouching , listens when she treads the air ; And man , by wilder impulse driven to ill , Is tamed , and led by this Enchantress still . Who ne'er has felt her hand assuasive steal ...
Сторінка 28
... breath falls on the quivering light ; The fire is kindled , and the flame is bright ; And that cold mass , by either power assail'd , Is warm'd - made liquid — and to heaven exhal'd . Here let us pause : -the opening prospect view ...
... breath falls on the quivering light ; The fire is kindled , and the flame is bright ; And that cold mass , by either power assail'd , Is warm'd - made liquid — and to heaven exhal'd . Here let us pause : -the opening prospect view ...
Сторінка 30
... breathing freshness on the sultry day . Here the wild bee suspends her murmuring wing , Pants on the rock , or sips ... breath , the very soul of song . Down that long vale of years are sweetly roll'd The mingled voices of the bards of ...
... breathing freshness on the sultry day . Here the wild bee suspends her murmuring wing , Pants on the rock , or sips ... breath , the very soul of song . Down that long vale of years are sweetly roll'd The mingled voices of the bards of ...
Сторінка 31
... it flows : And as that harp , which God alone bestows , Is swept in concert with that sinking breath , Its cold chords shrink , as from the touch of death . It was the touch of death ! -Sweet be thy AIRS OF PALESTINE . 31.
... it flows : And as that harp , which God alone bestows , Is swept in concert with that sinking breath , Its cold chords shrink , as from the touch of death . It was the touch of death ! -Sweet be thy AIRS OF PALESTINE . 31.
Загальні терміни та фрази
Ajalon American Amid arms bard beauty beneath blest bliss blue Boötes bosom brave breast breath breeze bright brow calm charms clouds coursers dark dear deep dread dream earth fair fairy Fanny fear feel fire flowers forest friends gaze Génie du Christianisme glide gloom glory glow green harp hear heart heaven holy hour Jehoshaphat land LELAND STANFORD les Sauvages light lingers literature lone lyre maid midnight morning mountain muse ne'er never night North American Review o'er Palestine Paraguay pass'd Paulding peace play'd Poems poetical poets psalteries quire race racter rest rocks round scene seem'd shade shore sigh silent skies sleep smile song sorrow soul sound sparkling spirit stream sweet swell taste tears thee Theseus thine thou tide tread trembling Twas vale wake wave whip-poor-will wild winds wing wood youth
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 206 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Сторінка 57 - And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the LORD was not in the earthquake: And after the earthquake a fire; but the LORD was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.
Сторінка 218 - So live, that when thy summons comes, to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Сторінка 69 - For he is good ; for his mercy endureth for ever : that then the house was filled with a cloud, even the house of the Lord; so that the priests could not stand to minister by reason of the cloud : for the glory of the Lord had filled the house of God.
Сторінка 209 - I'll not o'erlook the modest flower That made the woods of April bright. INSCRIPTION FOR THE ENTRANCE TO A WOOD STRANGER, if thou hast learned a truth which needs No school of long experience, that the world Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares, To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood And view the haunts of Nature.
Сторінка 216 - Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again ; And, lost each human trace...
Сторінка 209 - Try their thin wings and dance in the warm beam That waked them into life. Even the green trees Partake the deep contentment ; as they bend To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene. Scarce less the cleft-born wild-flower seems to enjoy Existence, than the winged plunderer That sucks its sweets.
Сторінка 57 - And Jesse took an ass laden with bread, and a bottle of wine, and a kid, and sent them by David his son unto Saul.
Сторінка 206 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air, Lone wandering, but not lost.
Сторінка 216 - The hills Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,— the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods— rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,— Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.