The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Tom 1Houghton, Mifflin, 1883 |
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Strona 16
... TELL PSALMIST ELL me not , in mournful numbers , Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers , And things are not what they seem . Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art , to ...
... TELL PSALMIST ELL me not , in mournful numbers , Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers , And things are not what they seem . Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art , to ...
Strona 24
... tell us Spring is born ; Others , their blue eyes with tears o'erflowing , Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn ; Not alone in Spring's armorial bearing , And in Summer's green - emblazoned field , But in arms of brave old Autumn's ...
... tell us Spring is born ; Others , their blue eyes with tears o'erflowing , Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn ; Not alone in Spring's armorial bearing , And in Summer's green - emblazoned field , But in arms of brave old Autumn's ...
Strona 25
... Tell us of the ancient Games of Flowers ; In all places , then , and in all seasons , Flowers expand their light and soul - like wings , Teaching us , by most persuasive reasons , How akin they are to human things . And with childlike ...
... Tell us of the ancient Games of Flowers ; In all places , then , and in all seasons , Flowers expand their light and soul - like wings , Teaching us , by most persuasive reasons , How akin they are to human things . And with childlike ...
Strona 28
... , like anthems , roll ; They are chanting solemn masses , Singing , " Pray for this poor soul , Pray , pray ! " And the hooded clouds , like friars , Tell their 28 Voices of the Night MIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING YEAR.
... , like anthems , roll ; They are chanting solemn masses , Singing , " Pray for this poor soul , Pray , pray ! " And the hooded clouds , like friars , Tell their 28 Voices of the Night MIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING YEAR.
Strona 29
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. And 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 ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. And 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 ...
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Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
Acadian Albrecht Dürer angel art thou BALTASAR BARTOLOMÉ Basil beautiful behold beneath Beware birds bosom breath bright brooklet child CHISPA clouds Count of Lara CRUZADO dance dark dead Death DON CARLOS Don Dinero Dost thou doth dream earth Edenhall Evangeline eyes face fair father fear flowers forest forever Gabriel gleam gold golden Grand-Pré Gypsy hand hear heard heart heaven holy HYPOLITO JULIUS MOSEN land light lips look loud maiden meadows moon morning mountains never Never forever night o'er ocean PADRE CURA passed PEDRO CRESPO Pray prayer PRECIOSA restless heart rise river rose sail Saint sang SCENE shadow shalt silent singing sleep slumber smile song sorrow soul sound spake stand stars stood sweet Tharaw thee thine thou art thou hast thought Timoneda unto VICTORIAN village voice wait walls wandered wave weary wild wind window words youth
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 387 - THOUGH the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small ; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
Strona 532 - 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 517 - Thou, too, sail on, O ship of State ! Sail on, O Union, strong and great...
Strona 358 - 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.
Strona 110 - Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale That ever wind did blow.
Strona 19 - Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child. "They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.
Strona 535 - Build to-day, then, strong and sure, With a firm and ample base ; And ascending and secure Shall to-morrow find its place. Thus alone can we attain To those turrets, where the eye Sees the world as one vast plain, And one boundless reach of sky.
Strona 447 - Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted ; If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment ; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
Strona 105 - But when I older grew, Joining a corsair's crew, O'er the dark sea I flew With the marauders. Wild was the life we led; Many the souls that sped, Many the hearts that bled, By our stern orders.
Strona 16 - TELL me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.