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ALBERT PIKE ALNWICK CASTLE Amid art Napoleon beauty beneath bird blue breast breath breeze bright brow CARLOS WILCOX cheek cloud dark dead death deep dream earth fade fair flowers forest gale gaze gentle gloom glorious glory glow grave gray forest-eagle green groves hand hath hear heart heaven HENRY W hills hour JAIKUS lake land leaves life's light lips lonely look look'd morning mountain N. P. WILLIS night o'er ocean pale pass'd pinions prayer rest rock round sail SENECA LAKE shade shore sigh silent sleep slumbers smile soft song soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream sweep sweet swell tears thee thine Thou art thou hast thoughts throne thundering bands tone tree twilight URSA MAJOR voice WASHINGTON ALLSTON waters waves weary WEEHAWKEN whip-poor-will wild WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT winds wing woods youth
Strona 83 - Toiling—rejoicing—sorrowing— Onward through life he goes : Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close; Something attempted—something done, Has earn'da night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of Life Our fortunes must be wrought, Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.
Strona 150 - AT, tear her tatter'd ensign down! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky ; Beneath it rung the battle-shout, And burst the cannon's roar; The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more I Her deck, once red with heroes
Strona 150 - hulk Should sink beneath the wave; Her thunders shook the mighty deep, And there should be her grave; Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the god of storms,— The lightning and the gale!
Strona 62 - the hours of Day are number'd, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul that slumber'd, To a holy, calm delight; Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful firelight Dance upon the parlour wall; Then the forms of the departed
Strona 13 - voice—Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form is laid with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that
Strona 260 - The hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain, And patter their doleful prayers ;— But their prayers are all in vain, All in vain! There he stands, in the foul weather, The foolish, fond Old Year, Crown'd with wild flowers and with heather, Like weak, despised Lear, A king,—a king
Strona 104 - fly In triumph o'er his closing eye. Flag of the free heart's hope and home! By angel hands to valour given; Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. For ever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us! THE
Strona 63 - Utter'd not, yet comprehended, Is the spirit's voiceless prayer, Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, Breathing from her lips of air. Oh, though oft depress'd and lonely, All my fears are laid aside If I but remember only Such as these have lived and died I
Strona 20 - solemn main, A forlorn and shipwreck'd brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labour and to wait.
Strona 44 - BRYANT. THOU unrelenting Past! Strong are the barriers round thy dark domain, And fetters, sure and fast, Hold all that enter thy unbreathing reign. Far in thy realm withdrawn Old empires sit in sullenness and gloom, And glorious ages gone Lie deep within the shadow of thy womb. Childhood, with all its mirth, Youth, manhood,