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American authority beauty become begin believe Bryant called Christ Christian criticism dark death divine doctrine early earth Emerson England eternal evil expression eyes faith father fear feel followed freedom gave give God's hand heart heaven holy hope human influence Jesus land learned leave light lines literary literature lived Longfellow look Lord lost man's Master means mind moral nature never night original pain Poe's poem poet poet's poetic poetry prayer principle Quaker reason regard religious revelation says seems sense shows song sorrow soul speaks spirit stars success sweet tells thee things thou thought tion true trust truth turn universe utterance verse voice Whittier whole writes written wrote young youth
Page 200 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend ! " I shrieked, upstarting, — " Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore ! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! Leave my loneliness unbroken ! — quit the bust above my door ! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door ! " Quoth the Raven,
Page 241 - STRONG Son of God, immortal Love, Whom we, that have not seen thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where we cannot prove; Thine are these orbs of light and shade; Thou madest Life in man and brute ; Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot Is on the skull which thou hast made.
Page 88 - If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again.
Page 340 - 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 hair.
Page 195 - In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavor, Now — now to sit or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of despair!
Page 247 - Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease; And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say, "Peace !" Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies ! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.
Page 199 - Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door— Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door— Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Page 156 - I long for household voices gone, For vanished smiles I long, But God hath led my dear ones on, And He can do no wrong. I know not what the future hath Of marvel or surprise, Assured alone that life and death His mercy underlies.