Poems, Tom 2Ticknor and Fields, 1850 |
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Strona 6
... with the song , Thoughts that he has cherished Hears amid the chime and singin The bells of his own village ring And wakes , and finds his slumber Wet with most delicious tears . ; yes Thus dreamed I , as by night I. POEMS .
... with the song , Thoughts that he has cherished Hears amid the chime and singin The bells of his own village ring And wakes , and finds his slumber Wet with most delicious tears . ; yes Thus dreamed I , as by night I. POEMS .
Strona 21
... village choir On that sweet Sabbath morn . Through the closed blinds the golden sun Poured in a dusty beam , Like the celestial ladder seen By Jacob in his dream . And ever and anon , the wind , Sweet - scented with the hay , Turned o ...
... village choir On that sweet Sabbath morn . Through the closed blinds the golden sun Poured in a dusty beam , Like the celestial ladder seen By Jacob in his dream . And ever and anon , the wind , Sweet - scented with the hay , Turned o ...
Strona 23
... villages with strange alarms . Ah ! what a sound will rise , how wild and dreary , When the death - angel touches those swift keys ! What loud lament and dismal Miserere Will mingle with their awful symphonies ! I hear even now the ...
... villages with strange alarms . Ah ! what a sound will rise , how wild and dreary , When the death - angel touches those swift keys ! What loud lament and dismal Miserere Will mingle with their awful symphonies ! I hear even now the ...
Strona 50
... villages of sand - roofed tents , That rise like golden domes Above the cavernous and secret homes Of wandering and nomadic tribes of ant Ah , cruel little Tamerlane , Who , with thy dreadful reign , Dost persecute and overwhelm These ...
... villages of sand - roofed tents , That rise like golden domes Above the cavernous and secret homes Of wandering and nomadic tribes of ant Ah , cruel little Tamerlane , Who , with thy dreadful reign , Dost persecute and overwhelm These ...
Strona 77
... wafted downward From an eagle in his flight . I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist , And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me , That my soul cannot resist : A feeling of sadness and longir That is not akin 77.
... wafted downward From an eagle in his flight . I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist , And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me , That my soul cannot resist : A feeling of sadness and longir That is not akin 77.
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Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
Acadian Albrecht Dürer aloft art thou Balder Basil the blacksmith Béarn beautiful behold belfry BELFRY OF BRUGES bell beneath birds blossom breath bride Bruges burning Christmas carols cried dark dead descended door Evangeline Evangeline's eyes face fair farmer Father fire Ever higher fireside forest forever Forever never Gabriel Gascon gaze Ghent gleam golden Grand-Pré Guy de Dampierre hand head hear heard heart heaven higher Sing JULIUS MOSEN labor land laugh light lips loud maiden meadows Minnesingers morning never Never forever Nuremberg o'er ocean Ozark Mountains passed prairies prayer priest rain rise river rose round sail Saint sang seemed shadow ships shore silent slowly smile song sorrow soul sound spake stands stars stood sweet Tharaw thee thou thought tide toil unto village voice wander wave weary whispered wild wind words youth
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 22 - Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease; And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say, "Peace !" Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies ! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.
Strona 343 - She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule. In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead.
Strona 126 - Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
Strona 73 - Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies.
Strona 138 - This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman?
Strona 342 - Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors ; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Strona 304 - Standing before Her father's door, He saw the form of his promised bride. The sun shone on her golden hair, And her cheek was glowing fresh and fair, With the breath of morn and the soft sea air.
Strona 137 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Strona 141 - Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant, Shut out the turbulent tides ; but at stated seasons the flood-gates Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.
Strona 189 - This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you! See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compassion! Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, 'O Father, forgive them!