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bear beauty bird blessed born breast breath bright brow cheek child clouds cold dark dear death deep doth dreams early earth face fade fair fall fancy fear feel flowers gathering genius gentle give gone grace green hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven holy hope hour kind leaves life's light lips live lonely look meet memory mind Miss mother nature never night o'er o’er once passed poems poetry pure rest rise rose round seems shade sigh sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound speak spirit spring stars stream sweet taste tears tell tender thee thine things thou thought tone touch tree true turned voice wandering wave wild winds wings woman writings young youth
Сторінка 25 - And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er. When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Сторінка 127 - DOWN in a green and shady bed, A modest violet grew, Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from view.
Сторінка 380 - Melancholy has her sovran shrine, Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine; His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
Сторінка 165 - We have been friends together— Shall a light word part us now? We have been gay together; We have laughed at little jests; For the fount of hope was gushing, Warm and joyous, in our breasts. But laughter now hath fled thy lip, And sullen glooms thy brow; We have been gay together— Shall a light word part us now?
Сторінка 62 - Ye of the rose lip and dew-bright eye, And the bounding footstep, to meet me fly ! With the lyre, and the wreath, and the joyous lay, Come forth to the sunshine, I may not stay. Away from the dwellings of care-worn men, The waters are sparkling in grove and glen ! Away from the chamber and sullen hearth, The young leaves are dancing in breezy mirth ! Their light stems thrill to the wild-wood strains, And youth is abroad in my green domains.
Сторінка 62 - From the night-bird's lay through the starry time, In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime, To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes, When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks.
Сторінка 223 - I see Him, hear Him, everywhere, In all things — darkness, light, Silence, and sound ; but most of all, When slumber's dusky curtains fall, At the dead hour of night.
Сторінка 31 - ... O'er his low bed may weep. One sleeps where southern vines are drest Above the noble slain : He wrapt his colours round his breast On a blood-red field of Spain. And one — o'er her the myrtle showers Its leaves, by soft winds fanned ; She faded midst Italian flowers — The last of that bright band. And parted thus they rest, who played Beneath the same green tree ; Whose voices mingled as they prayed Around one parent knee...
Сторінка 282 - THE Frost looked forth one still, clear night, And whispered, " Now I shall be out of sight ; So through the valley and over the height, In silence I'll take my way. I will not go on like that blustering train, — The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain, Who make so much bustle and noise in vain, But I'll be as busy as they...