The Magazine of Poetry and Literary Review, Volume 1Charles Wells Moulton C.W. Moulton, 1889 |
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Results 1-5 of 84
Page 5
... dear heart , dear heart ? Not from what heaven may send thee of its pain ; Not from fierce sunshine or the scathing rain : The pang of pleasure ; passion's wound and smart ; Not from the scorn and sorrow of thine art ; Nor loss of ...
... dear heart , dear heart ? Not from what heaven may send thee of its pain ; Not from fierce sunshine or the scathing rain : The pang of pleasure ; passion's wound and smart ; Not from the scorn and sorrow of thine art ; Nor loss of ...
Page 6
... dear thing to him , All my life fling to him , Cling to him— What to atone Is enough for my sinning ! This were the cost to me , This were my winning- That he were lost to me . Not as a lover At last if he part from me , Tearing my ...
... dear thing to him , All my life fling to him , Cling to him— What to atone Is enough for my sinning ! This were the cost to me , This were my winning- That he were lost to me . Not as a lover At last if he part from me , Tearing my ...
Page 15
... dear and dreadful they are to the earth , How they inure to themselves as much as to any -what a paradox appears their age , How people respond to them , yet know them not , How there is something relentless in their fate all times ...
... dear and dreadful they are to the earth , How they inure to themselves as much as to any -what a paradox appears their age , How people respond to them , yet know them not , How there is something relentless in their fate all times ...
Page 17
... dear father ! This arm beneath your head ! It is some dream that on the deck , You've fallen cold and dead . My Captain does not answer , his lips are pale and still , My father does not feel my arm , he has no pulse nor will , The ship ...
... dear father ! This arm beneath your head ! It is some dream that on the deck , You've fallen cold and dead . My Captain does not answer , his lips are pale and still , My father does not feel my arm , he has no pulse nor will , The ship ...
Page 30
... dear , The choicest of my store , the rose of speech , The sweet , I love you , which has been the gem Of every language since the first fond hour That woman's smile became a good man's heaven . -Ibid , p . 76 . REFLECTION . Dost see ...
... dear , The choicest of my store , the rose of speech , The sweet , I love you , which has been the gem Of every language since the first fond hour That woman's smile became a good man's heaven . -Ibid , p . 76 . REFLECTION . Dost see ...
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angel Atlantic Monthly beauty birds bloom blossoms blow blue born breast breath bright Century Magazine CHIG Clinton Scollard Copse Hill dark dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair feet flowers G. P. Putnam's Sons GEORGE HINES glad gleam glory gold golden gray hand Harper's Magazine hath hear heart heaven Henry Abbey hills Hodge the cat hope Ibid kiss land leaves life's light lips literary lives look love's Magazine Matthew Arnold morning mother neath never night o'er pain pale peace poems poet poetry prize published rest rose shadows shining shore sigh silent sing skies sleep smile song Sonnets sorrow soul spirit spring stars strong summer sweet tears tender thee thine things thou thought toil UNIV verse voice warm waves weary wild wind wings woman wonder young
Popular passages
Page 103 - TO HELEN. Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
Page 21 - I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journeywork of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is a...
Page 17 - O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain ! my Captain ! rise up and hear the bells ; Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle trills...
Page 85 - ... two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one.
Page 103 - Happy the man. whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound. Content to breathe his native air. In his own ground Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire. Whose trees in summer yield him shade. In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away, In health of body, peace of mind. Quiet by day. Sound sleep by night; study and ease. Together mixt: sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please With meditation.
Page 360 - WHICHEVER way the wind doth blow, Some heart is glad to have it so; Then blow it east or blow it west, The wind that blows, that wind is best.
Page 22 - AFOOT and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms, Strong and content I travel the open road.
Page 21 - I have said that the soul is not more than the body, 'And I have said that the body is not more than the soul, And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's" self is, And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud...
Page 58 - So farre, so fast the eygre drave. The heart had hardly time to beat, Before a shallow seething wave Sobbed in the grasses at oure feet: The feet had hardly time to flee Before it brake against the knee.
Page 58 - And didst thou visit him no more ? Thou didst, thou didst my daughter deare ; The waters laid thee at his doore, Ere yet the early dawn was clear. Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace, The lifted sun shone on thy face, Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place.