The Poetical Works of Bret HarteJ.R. Osgood, 1872 - 333 стор. |
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Сторінка 15
... sweet face uplifting , Thou stayest them to tell The delicate thought , that cannot find expression , For ruder speech too fair , That , like thy petals , trembles in possession , And scatters on the air . The miner pauses in his rugged ...
... sweet face uplifting , Thou stayest them to tell The delicate thought , that cannot find expression , For ruder speech too fair , That , like thy petals , trembles in possession , And scatters on the air . The miner pauses in his rugged ...
Сторінка 17
... sweet home face his foolish thought surprises And passes in a tear . Some boyish vision of his Eastern village , Of uneventful toil , Where golden harvests followed quiet tillage Above a peaceful soil : One moment only ; for the pick ...
... sweet home face his foolish thought surprises And passes in a tear . Some boyish vision of his Eastern village , Of uneventful toil , Where golden harvests followed quiet tillage Above a peaceful soil : One moment only ; for the pick ...
Сторінка 98
... sweet ; Or I might say , when the sunset burned The old farm gable , he thought it turned The milk , that fell in a babbling flood Into the milk - pail , red as blood ! Or how he fancied the hum of bees Were bullets buzzing among the ...
... sweet ; Or I might say , when the sunset burned The old farm gable , he thought it turned The milk , that fell in a babbling flood Into the milk - pail , red as blood ! Or how he fancied the hum of bees Were bullets buzzing among the ...
Сторінка 98
... sweet ; Or I might say , when the sunset burned The old farm gable , he thought it turned The milk , that fell in a babbling flood Into the milk - pail , red as blood ! Or how he fancied the hum of bees Were bullets buzzing among the ...
... sweet ; Or I might say , when the sunset burned The old farm gable , he thought it turned The milk , that fell in a babbling flood Into the milk - pail , red as blood ! Or how he fancied the hum of bees Were bullets buzzing among the ...
Сторінка 129
... Or erects it quite out of your view ; And the ladies all cry , when its figure they spy , Oh , what a sweet pretty Emeu ! Oh ! do Just look at that lovely Emeu ! One day to this spot , when the weather was 129 THE BALLAD OF THE EMEU •
... Or erects it quite out of your view ; And the ladies all cry , when its figure they spy , Oh , what a sweet pretty Emeu ! Oh ! do Just look at that lovely Emeu ! One day to this spot , when the weather was 129 THE BALLAD OF THE EMEU •
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Acapulco Bay Addie De Laine ain't Avitor Brown cañon chasuble cheer Chiquita Cicely Cooke Copperhead dance derned Devonian drifting Emeu eyes face fair fear flung Francisca galleon golden harvest gone grace gray hand heathen Chinee heedest the surf hill hoss hundred Injin John Burns Legends Little thou heedest look lost lover Lycurgus MADRIGAL maiden Maud mignonette MILETUS Milton Perkins Miss Addie Mission mountain never night o'er odor old red sandstone Padre pass pine plain Plesiosaurus PLIOCENE Poverty Flat Rhine rock round sad old house sailed San Joaquin sea-fog shore Silurian skies smile snow spring stood story strange stranger surf that sings Suthin sweet Table Mountain tale tell thar Thar's thee things thought thunder Tom Flynn trees TRUTHFUL JAMES twas twelvemonth ago wait walked waters wild wonder
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Сторінка 81 - Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar — Which the same I am free to maintain.
Сторінка 143 - And now, as the night was senescent And star-dials pointed to morn As the star-dials hinted of morn At the end of our path a liquescent And nebulous lustre was born, Out of which a miraculous crescent Arose with a duplicate horn Astarte's bediamonded crescent Distinct with its duplicate horn.
Сторінка 145 - Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, And tempted her out of her gloom, And conquered her scruples and gloom; And we passed to the end of the vista, But were stopped by the door of a tomb, By the door of a legended tomb; And I said — "What is written, sweet sister, On the door of this legended tomb?
Сторінка 84 - Then Abner Dean of Angel's raised a point of order — when A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen, And he smiled a kind of sickly smile, and curled up on the floor, And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.
Сторінка 81 - Which we had a small game, And Ah Sin took a hand : It was Euchre. The same He did not understand ; But he smiled as he sat by the table, With the smile that was child-like and bland.
Сторінка 132 - Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick alarming drum. "Let me of my heart take counsel: War is not of life the sum; Who shall stay and reap the harvest When the autumn days shall come?" But the drum Echoed, "Come! Death shall reap the braver harvest," said the solemnsounding drum.
Сторінка 131 - HARK ! I hear the tramp of thousands, And of armed men the hum ; Lo ! a nation's hosts have gathered Round the quick alarming drum, — Saying, " Come, Freemen, come ! Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick alarming drum.
Сторінка 25 - ... heedest the surf that sings, The bar that thunders, the shale that rings,— Give me to keep thy company. Little thou hast, old friend, that's new, Storms and wrecks are old things to thee ; Sick am I of these changes, too ; Little to care for, little to rue, — I on the shore, and thou on the sea. All of thy wanderings, far and near, Bring thee at last to shore and me ; All of my journeyings end them here, This our tether must be our cheer, — I on the shore, and thou on the sea.
Сторінка 30 - Lost is that camp and wasted all its fire: And he who wrought that spell? — Ah! towering pine and stately Kentish spire, Ye have one tale to tell! Lost is that camp, but let its fragrant story Blend with the breath that thrills With hopvines' incense all the pensive glory That fills the Kentish hills.
Сторінка 84 - Then Brown he read a paper, and he reconstructed there, From those same bones, an animal that was extremely rare; And Jones then asked the Chair for a suspension of the rules, Till he could prove that those same bones was one of his lost mules. Then Brown he smiled a bitter smile, and said he was at fault, It seemed he had been trespassing on Jones's family vault; He was a most sarcastic man, this quiet Mr. Brown, And on several occasions he had cleaned out the town.