PoemsKatz Brothers, 1854 - 272 стор. |
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amid beauty beneath bird blood bloom blossoms blue boughs boundless breath bright brook brow calm city spires clouds cold dark day-dawn dead Deadly assassin death deep deer didst dwell earth EARTH'S CHILDREN eyes fair flowers forest fresh gaze gentle glad glen glide glittering glorious glory grass grave Greece green groves hand hear heart heaven hills hour hymn insect wings land leaves light look lovers walk maid maiden maize Maquon mighty mighty heart mingled morning mountain murmur night o'er Oh father pass pleasant red ruler rest rill Rizpah rocks round savannas shade shine shore sight silent skies sleep smile soft song sound spirit spring Stockbridge stream summer sweet swell tears thee thine thou thou art thou dost thou hast trees tulip-tree vale voice wandering warrior watch waters weep wild wind-flower winds wings woods youth
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Сторінка 33 - Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world, with kings, The powerful of the earth, the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Сторінка 41 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way...
Сторінка 34 - 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...
Сторінка 33 - Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again...
Сторінка 32 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides Into his darker musings with a mild And gentle sympathy that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware.
Сторінка 214 - Thou waitest late, and com'st alone, When woods are bare, and birds are flown, And frosts and shortening days portend The aged Year is near his end. Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye Look through its fringes to the sky, Blue — blue — as if that sky let fall A flower from its cerulean wall.
Сторінка 153 - THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS. THE melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread ; The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers...
Сторінка 34 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods 'Where rolls the Oregon and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
Сторінка 131 - Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died Among their branches, till, at last, they stood, As now they stand, massy, and tall, and dark, Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold Communion with his Maker.
Сторінка 132 - ... breath That from the inmost darkness of the place Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with thee. Here is continual worship; — nature, here, In the tranquillity that thou dost love, Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around, From perch to perch, the solitary bird Passes ; and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs, Wells softly forth and visits the strong roots Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale Of all the good it does.