Poems of Old AgeGeorge Coolidge, 1861 - 128 |
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Strona 12
... song . And though young Fancy's dreams are o'er , I still can banquet on the past , And draw from Memory's ample store As rich a treat as Hope's repast . As o'er my shoulder , back I peer , I see no grinning spectres pale , No scowling ...
... song . And though young Fancy's dreams are o'er , I still can banquet on the past , And draw from Memory's ample store As rich a treat as Hope's repast . As o'er my shoulder , back I peer , I see no grinning spectres pale , No scowling ...
Strona 28
... SONG . GUIDED and guarded by our God , Two pilgrims have together trod — Now bright with smiles , now wet with tears— Life's checkered path for fifty years ! " " This is their " golden wedding day : Ring out , O bells , your sweetest ...
... SONG . GUIDED and guarded by our God , Two pilgrims have together trod — Now bright with smiles , now wet with tears— Life's checkered path for fifty years ! " " This is their " golden wedding day : Ring out , O bells , your sweetest ...
Strona 29
... song , and pray That He whose love their lot endears , Whose grace has filled their fifty years , May guide them still , and still ordain Each cup of bliss , or chastening pain ; May soothe their griefs and wipe their tears Through many ...
... song , and pray That He whose love their lot endears , Whose grace has filled their fifty years , May guide them still , and still ordain Each cup of bliss , or chastening pain ; May soothe their griefs and wipe their tears Through many ...
Strona 41
... song as sweet as a vesper chime , And the tones with the roses straying . And the name of this isle is the " Long Ago ... songs that nobody sings , And a part of an infant's prayer ; There's a lute unswept , and a harp without strings ...
... song as sweet as a vesper chime , And the tones with the roses straying . And the name of this isle is the " Long Ago ... songs that nobody sings , And a part of an infant's prayer ; There's a lute unswept , and a harp without strings ...
Strona 43
... songs our fathers sang , In days of auld lang syne . We've passed through many varied scenes Since youth's unclouded ... songs of auld lang syne . Yet ever has the light of song Illumed our darkest POEMS OF OLD AGE . 43.
... songs our fathers sang , In days of auld lang syne . We've passed through many varied scenes Since youth's unclouded ... songs of auld lang syne . Yet ever has the light of song Illumed our darkest POEMS OF OLD AGE . 43.
Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
Angel auld lang syne Auld Robin Gray beam beauty blessed bloom bosom boys bright brow cheek cold Cousin Jane days of auld dear death door dream Eliza Cook eyes faded Father William fear flowers Frae friends gentle gone Goody Blake grandmother grave gray hair gray old growing old hand happy harp Harry Gill hath head hear heart Heaven Jamie knee life's light live look MAN-AT-ARMS minstrel mother mother's kiss mourn neath never night o'er old English gentleman old familiar faces OLD MAN'S olden Perilla Pilgrim Society poor pray psalm quoth the gray rose round scene sigh silent silver streak sing smile songs of auld songs our fathers sorrow soul stars sweet tears teeth they chatter tell thee There's thou hast Tommy's dead tree Twas wandering weary wind window binding shoes wrinkled young Young Harry youth
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 48 - BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned From wandering on a foreign strand? If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, — Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly...
Strona 113 - 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 quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Strona 23 - All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I loved a Love once, fairest among women : Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her — All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
Strona 46 - Though born in such a high degree ; In pride of power, in beauty's bloom, Had wept o'er Monmouth's bloody tomb ! When kindness had his wants supplied, And the old man was gratified, Began to rise his minstrel pride ; And he began to talk anon, Of good Earl Francis, dead and gone, And of Earl Walter...
Strona 63 - I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said, "They are gone.
Strona 4 - Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Strona 106 - He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know, At first sight, if the bird be flown ; But what fair well or grove he sings in now, That is to him unknown.
Strona 42 - CHORUS. For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. We twa hae run about the braes, And pu'd the gowans fine ; But we've wander'd mony a weary foot Sin auld lang syne.
Strona 95 - No word to any man he utters, A-bed or up, to young or old ; But ever to himself he mutters, " Poor Harry Gill is very cold." A-bed or up, by night or day ; His teeth they chatter, chatter still, Now think, ye farmers all, I pray, Of Goody Blake and Harry GilL I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills.
Strona 50 - SWEET TEVIOT ! on thy silver tide The glaring bale-fires blaze no more ; No longer steel-clad warriors ride Along thy wild and willowed shore ; Where'er thou wind'st, by dale or hill, All, all is peaceful, all is still, As if thy waves, since Time was born, Since first they rolled upon the Tweed, Had only heard the shepherd's reed, Nor started at the bugle-horn.