The Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier, Том 2Ticknor and Fields, 1861 |
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... Loch Maree . To my Sister ..... 91 92 Autumn Thoughts .. Calef in Boston , 1692 . 93 94 To Pius IX . 95 Elliott 98 Ichabod ! 99 The Christian Tourists ... 100 The Men of Old . 102 The Peace Convention at Brussels . 104 The Wish of To ...
... Loch Maree . To my Sister ..... 91 92 Autumn Thoughts .. Calef in Boston , 1692 . 93 94 To Pius IX . 95 Elliott 98 Ichabod ! 99 The Christian Tourists ... 100 The Men of Old . 102 The Peace Convention at Brussels . 104 The Wish of To ...
Сторінка 90
... Let such , for earth's despairing ones , Hopeless , yet longing to be free , Breathe once again the Prophet's prayer : " Lord , ope their eyes , that they may see ! " THE WELL OF LOCH MAREE.9 CALM on the breast of 90 MISCELLANEOUS .
... Let such , for earth's despairing ones , Hopeless , yet longing to be free , Breathe once again the Prophet's prayer : " Lord , ope their eyes , that they may see ! " THE WELL OF LOCH MAREE.9 CALM on the breast of 90 MISCELLANEOUS .
Сторінка 91
John Greenleaf Whittier. THE WELL OF LOCH MAREE.9 CALM on the breast of Loch Maree A little isle reposes ; A shadow woven of the oak And willow o'er it closes . Within , a Druid's mound is seen , Set round with stony warders ; A fountain ...
John Greenleaf Whittier. THE WELL OF LOCH MAREE.9 CALM on the breast of Loch Maree A little isle reposes ; A shadow woven of the oak And willow o'er it closes . Within , a Druid's mound is seen , Set round with stony warders ; A fountain ...
Сторінка 297
... , finer than in the picture . - Mrs . Jamieson's Poetry of Sacred and Le- gendary Art , vol . 1 , page 121 . NOTE 9 , page 91 . Pennant , in his " Voyage to the Hebrides , " describes the holy well of Loch Maree , the waters of NOTES . 297.
... , finer than in the picture . - Mrs . Jamieson's Poetry of Sacred and Le- gendary Art , vol . 1 , page 121 . NOTE 9 , page 91 . Pennant , in his " Voyage to the Hebrides , " describes the holy well of Loch Maree , the waters of NOTES . 297.
Сторінка 298
John Greenleaf Whittier. the holy well of Loch Maree , the waters of which were supposed to effect a miraculous cure of melancholy . trouble , and insanity . NOTE 10 , page 95 . The writer of these lines is no enemy of Catholics . He has ...
John Greenleaf Whittier. the holy well of Loch Maree , the waters of which were supposed to effect a miraculous cure of melancholy . trouble , and insanity . NOTE 10 , page 95 . The writer of these lines is no enemy of Catholics . He has ...
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50 cents 75 cents angels autumn beauty beneath blessed bloom brave breath BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR brow calm child Cloth cloud dark dead dear dream earth evermore evil eyes faith fall Father fear fire flowers Freedom Freedom called gilt edge God's gold golden grace grave gray green GUY MANNERING hand hath hear heard heart heaven hills holy human Joseph Sturge land leaves light lips living Loch Maree look Lord manhood Martha Mason MAUD MULLER mountains night night is falling o'er pain pale peace pilgrim pines POEMS poor praise pray prayer rain round shade shadow shining singing slave Slavery smile snow song soul spake stars summer sunset sweet tears Thebaid thee thine thou thought to-day toil tread tree trod truth unto voice wall waves weary wild wind wood words wrong young
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Сторінка 232 - Live and laugh, as boyhood can! Though the flinty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, Every morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew ; Every evening from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat: All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride, Lose the freedom of the sod, Like a colt's for work be shod, Made to tread the mills of toil, Up and down in ceaseless moil...
Сторінка 258 - For something better than she had known. The Judge rode slowly down the lane, Smoothing his horse's chestnut mane. He drew his bridle in the shade Of the apple-trees, to greet the maid, And ask a draught from the spring that flowed Through the meadow across the road.
Сторінка 19 - We dropped the seed o'er hill and plain, Beneath the sun of May, And frightened from our sprouting grain The robber crows away.
Сторінка 16 - And, beneath it, pond and meadow lay brighter, greener still. And shouting boys in woodland haunts caught glimpses of that sky, Flecked by the many-tinted leaves, and laughed, they knew not why ; And school-girls, gay with aster-flowers, beside the meadow brooks, Mingled the glow of autumn with the sunshine of sweet looks. From spire and barn looked westerly the patient weathercocks ; But even the birches on the hill stood motionless as rocks. No sound was in the woodlands, save the squirrel's dropping...
Сторінка 32 - Comrade mine," said Ury's lord ; " Put it up, I pray thee : Passive to his holy will, Trust I in my Master still, Even though he slay me. " Pledges of thy love and faith, Proved on many a field of death, Not by me are needed.
Сторінка 260 - And for him who sat by the chimney lug, Dozing and grumbling o'er pipe and mug, A manly form at her side she saw, And joy was duty and love was law. Then she took up her burden of life again, Saying only,
Сторінка 50 - The loved and cherished Past upon the new life stealing. Serene and mild the untried light May have its dawning; And, as in summer's northern night The evening and the dawn unite, The sunset hues of Time blend with the soul's new morning. I sit alone; in foam and spray Wave after wave Breaks on the rocks which, stern and gray, Shoulder the broken tide away, Or murmurs hoarse and strong through mossy cleft and cave.
Сторінка 99 - Scorn! would the angels laugh, to mark A bright soul driven, Fiend-goaded, down the endless dark. From hope and heaven! Let not the land once proud of him Insult him now, Nor brand with deeper shame his dim, Dishonored brow.
Сторінка 30 - But the noble Mexic women still their holy task pursued, Through that long, dark night of sorrow, worn and faint and lacking food ; Over weak and suffering brothers, with a tender care they hung, And the dying foeman blessed them in a strange and Northern tongue. Not wholly lost...
Сторінка 31 - UP the streets of Aberdeen, By the kirk and college green, Rode the Laird of Ury ; Close behind him, close beside, Foul of mouth and evil-eyed, Pressed the mob in fury. Flouted him the drunken churl, Jeered at him the serving-girl, Prompt to please her master ; And the begging carlin, late Fed and clothed at Ury's gate, Cursed him as he passed her. Yet, with calm and stately mien, Up the streets of Aberdeen Came he slowly riding ; And, to all he saw and heard, Answering not with bitter word, Turning...