Poems Part 1 (Volume 12)Reprint Services Corporation |
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Page xiv
... tongue . In vain a fresher mould we seek , Can all the varied phrases tell That Babel's wandering children speak Sow thrushes sing or lilacs smell ? Caged in the poet's lonely heart , Love wastes unheard its tenderest tone ; The soul ...
... tongue . In vain a fresher mould we seek , Can all the varied phrases tell That Babel's wandering children speak Sow thrushes sing or lilacs smell ? Caged in the poet's lonely heart , Love wastes unheard its tenderest tone ; The soul ...
Page 16
... tongues Like polar needles , ever on the jar ; Men , plugless word - spouts , whose deep fountains are Within their lungs . Children , with drums Strapped round them by the fond paternal ass ; Peripatetics with a blade of grass Between ...
... tongues Like polar needles , ever on the jar ; Men , plugless word - spouts , whose deep fountains are Within their lungs . Children , with drums Strapped round them by the fond paternal ass ; Peripatetics with a blade of grass Between ...
Page 59
... tongue Whose accents echo to the voice that sung . One leap of Ocean scatters on the sand The quarried bulwarks of the loosening land ; One thrill of earth dissolves a century's toil Strewed like the leaves that vanish in the soil ; One ...
... tongue Whose accents echo to the voice that sung . One leap of Ocean scatters on the sand The quarried bulwarks of the loosening land ; One thrill of earth dissolves a century's toil Strewed like the leaves that vanish in the soil ; One ...
Page 90
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Page 108
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Common terms and phrases
arms beneath BERKSHIRE blazoned blossoms blue blush boys breast breath bright burning CHARLES WENTWORTH UPHAM cheek cheerful circling band crown dark dead dear dream dust earth eyes faded fair falchion flame flow flowers fold gathered gleam glittering band glow golden grave gray green hand hear heart Heaven hour JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE Katydid laugh leaves life's light lips listening living look lyre memory morning never nurslings o'er once peaceful percussion cap PHI BETA KAPPA plain rhyme rills ring Rip Van Winkle roll rose round shadows shine shining days shore sigh silent sing skies sleep slumbering smile snow song soul spring stars stethoscope strain stream sweet tears tell thee thine thou throbbing toil tongue tread trembling turn voice wandering warm waves whisper wild wine wings young youth
Popular passages
Page 421 - Drawn by a rat-tailed, ewe-necked bay. "Huddup!" said the parson. Off went they. The parson was working his Sunday's text — Had got to fifthly, and stopped perplexed At what the — Moses — was coming next. All at once the horse stood still, Close by the meet'n'house on the hill. First a shiver, and then a thrill, Then something decidedly like a spill, And the parson was sitting upon a rock, At half past nine by the meet'n'house clock, Just the hour of the earthquake shock!
Page 419 - So the Deacon inquired of the village folk Where he could find the strongest oak, That couldn't be split nor bent nor broke — That was for spokes and floor and sills; He sent for lancewood to make the thills; The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees; The panels of whitewood, that cuts like cheese, But lasts like iron for things like these; The hubs of logs from the "Settler's ellum...
Page 2 - The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom, And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb.
Page 1 - 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.
Page 393 - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main; The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming Lair.
Page 419 - they called it then. Eighteen hundred and twenty came: — Running as usual, much the same. Thirty and forty at last arrive ; And then came fifty -and fifty-five. Little of all we value here Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year Without both feeling and looking queer.
Page 247 - The wild-flowers who will stoop to number ? A few can touch the magic string, And noisy Fame is proud to win them : — Alas for those that never sing, But die with all their music in them I Nay, grieve not for the dead alone Whose song has told their hearts...