Evangeline: Courtship of Miles Standish. Favorite PoemsHoughton, Mifflin and Company, 1880 - 275 pages |
From inside the book
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Page 33
... graves , and hung on the headstones Garlands of autumn - leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest . Then came the guard from the ships , and march- ing proudly among them Entered the sacred portal . With loud and disso- nant clangor ...
... graves , and hung on the headstones Garlands of autumn - leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest . Then came the guard from the ships , and march- ing proudly among them Entered the sacred portal . With loud and disso- nant clangor ...
Page 38
... graves of the dead , nor the gloomier grave of the living . Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house of her father . Smouldered the fire on the hearth , on the board was the supper untasted , Empty and drear was each room ...
... graves of the dead , nor the gloomier grave of the living . Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house of her father . Smouldered the fire on the hearth , on the board was the supper untasted , Empty and drear was each room ...
Page 48
... the ocean , Deep in their sands to bury the scattered bones of the mammoth . Friends they sought and homes ; spairing , heart - broken , and many , de- Asked of the earth but a grave , and no. Exile without an end , and without an example ...
... the ocean , Deep in their sands to bury the scattered bones of the mammoth . Friends they sought and homes ; spairing , heart - broken , and many , de- Asked of the earth but a grave , and no. Exile without an end , and without an example ...
Page 49
... grave , and no longer a friend nor a fireside . Written their history stands on tablets of stone in the churchyards ... graves of those who had sorrowed and suffered before her , Passions long extinguished , and hopes long dead and ...
... grave , and no longer a friend nor a fireside . Written their history stands on tablets of stone in the churchyards ... graves of those who had sorrowed and suffered before her , Passions long extinguished , and hopes long dead and ...
Page 50
... grave , and thought that perhaps in its bosom He was already at rest , and she longed to slumber beside him . Sometimes a rumor , a hearsay , an inarticulate whisper , Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her forward . Sometimes ...
... grave , and thought that perhaps in its bosom He was already at rest , and she longed to slumber beside him . Sometimes a rumor , a hearsay , an inarticulate whisper , Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her forward . Sometimes ...
Other editions - View all
Evangeline: Courtship of Miles Standish. Favorite Poems Henry Wadsworth Longfellow No preview available - 2015 |
Evangeline: Courtship of Miles Standish. Favorite Poems Henry Wadsworth Longfellow No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
Acadian aloft angel Basil the blacksmith beautiful behold beneath blossoms breath bright Captain of Plymouth CHILDREN'S HOUR cloud dark dead door Evangeline Evangeline's Excelsior eyes face farmer Father fire Flanders flowers forest Forever never friendship Gabriel garden gazed gleamed golden Grand-Pré grave hand hear heard heart heaven Indian John Alden JOHN SHAW BILLINGS Julius Cæsar labor land laughed light lips look loud maize matchlock meadows Miles Standish mist morning Never forever night o'er ocean odor Ozark Mountains passed paused peace on earth phantom prairies prayer priest Priscilla rain red planet Mars river roof rose sail Sandalphon seemed shadow shore silent Sister of Mercy slowly slumber smile snow song sorrow soul sound spake stars stood sunshine sweet swift thee Thereupon answered thou thought tide tremulous unto village voice walls wander Wattawamat weary wild wind words youth
Popular passages
Page 23 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 24 - Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
Page 59 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist...
Page 27 - Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ) Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.
Page 60 - 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.
Page 20 - THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.
Page 21 - Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining ; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
Page 19 - 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.
Page 3 - The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Page 76 - She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ Himself doth rule. In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead.