Poems, Tom 2Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, 1853 |
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Strona 5
... land of trances Have their solitary dwelling . All else seemed asleep in Bruges , In the quaint old Flemish city . And I thought how like these chimes Are the poet's airy rhymes , All his rhymes and roundelays , His conceits , and songs ...
... land of trances Have their solitary dwelling . All else seemed asleep in Bruges , In the quaint old Flemish city . And I thought how like these chimes Are the poet's airy rhymes , All his rhymes and roundelays , His conceits , and songs ...
Strona 15
... land with terror smote ; And again the wild alarum sounded from the tocsin's throat ; Till the bell of Ghent responded o'er lagoon and dike of sand , " I am Roland ! I am Roland ! there is victory in the land ! " Then the sound of drums ...
... land with terror smote ; And again the wild alarum sounded from the tocsin's throat ; Till the bell of Ghent responded o'er lagoon and dike of sand , " I am Roland ! I am Roland ! there is victory in the land ! " Then the sound of drums ...
Strona 27
... lands Rise the blue Franconian mountains , Nuremberg , the ancient , stands Quaint old town of toil and traffic , quaint old town of art and song , Memories haunt thy pointed gables , like the rooks that round them throng : Memories of ...
... lands Rise the blue Franconian mountains , Nuremberg , the ancient , stands Quaint old town of toil and traffic , quaint old town of art and song , Memories haunt thy pointed gables , like the rooks that round them throng : Memories of ...
Strona 30
... Land . Emigravit is the inscription on the tomb - stone where he lies ; Dead he is not , but departed , — for the artist never dies . Fairer seems the ancient city , and the sunshine seems more fair , That he once has trod its pavement ...
... Land . Emigravit is the inscription on the tomb - stone where he lies ; Dead he is not , but departed , — for the artist never dies . Fairer seems the ancient city , and the sunshine seems more fair , That he once has trod its pavement ...
Strona 35
... lands his sires had plundered , Written in the Doomsday Book . By his bed a monk was seated , Who in humble voice repeated Many a prayer and pater - noster , From the missal on his knee ; And , amid the tempest pealing , Sounds of bells ...
... lands his sires had plundered , Written in the Doomsday Book . By his bed a monk was seated , Who in humble voice repeated Many a prayer and pater - noster , From the missal on his knee ; And , amid the tempest pealing , Sounds of bells ...
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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 blossom bosom breath bride Bruges burning Christmas carols cloud 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 hear heard heart heaven JULIUS MOSEN labor land laugh light loud maiden meadows Minnesingers moon morning never Never forever Nuremberg o'er ocean odor Ozark Mountains passed prairies prayer priest rain restless rise river rose round sail Saint sang seemed shadows ships shore silent slowly smile song sorrow soul sound spake stands stars stood sunshine sweet Tharaw thee thou thought tide toil unto village voice wander wave weary whispered wild wind words youth
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 331 - We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Strona 354 - There is no Death ! What seems so is transition ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life Elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Strona 23 - THIS is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling, Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms ; But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing Startles 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...
Strona 78 - Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavour ; And to-night I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart. As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the...
Strona 316 - 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 283 - TN that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware's waters, Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle, Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded. There all the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem of beauty, And the streets still re-echo the names of the trees of the forest, As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they molested.
Strona 100 - All are scattered now and fled, Some are married, some are dead ; And when I ask. with throbs of pain, •' Ah ! when shall they all meet again ?" As in the days long since gone by, The ancient timepiece makes reply, — " Forever — never ! Never — forever !
Strona 131 - Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small ; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
Strona 97 - Half-way up the stairs it stands, And points and beckons with its hands '• From its case of massive oak, Like a monk, who, under his cloak, Crosses himself, and sighs, alas! With sorrowful voice to all who pass, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever...
Strona 139 - THE book is completed, And closed, like the day ; And the hand that has written It Lays it away. Dim grow its fancies ; Forgotten they lie ; Like coals in the ashes, They darken and die. Song sinks into silence, The story is told, The windows are darkened, The hearth-stone is cold. Darker and darker The black shadows fall ; Sleep and oblivion Reign over alL EVANGELINE. A TALE OF ACADIE. THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks...