American Poems (1625-1892)Walter Cochrane Bronson University of Chicago Press, 1912 - 669 pages |
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Page 6
... fall , And when tis broke then ends his life and all ; But if he hold till it have run its last , Then may he live out threescore years or past . Next Youth came up , in gorgeous attire , As that fond age doth most of all desire : His ...
... fall , And when tis broke then ends his life and all ; But if he hold till it have run its last , Then may he live out threescore years or past . Next Youth came up , in gorgeous attire , As that fond age doth most of all desire : His ...
Page 14
... fall , That state obliterate he had at first ; 130 Nor youth nor strength nor wisdom spring again , Nor habitations long their names retain , But in oblivion to the final day remain . Shall I , then , praise the heavens , the trees ...
... fall , That state obliterate he had at first ; 130 Nor youth nor strength nor wisdom spring again , Nor habitations long their names retain , But in oblivion to the final day remain . Shall I , then , praise the heavens , the trees ...
Page 18
... fall ; All cares and feares he bids farwell , and meanes in safity now to dwell : A pilgrim I on earth perplext , with sinns , with cares and sorrows vext , By age and paines brought to decay , and my Clay house mouldring away , Oh how ...
... fall ; All cares and feares he bids farwell , and meanes in safity now to dwell : A pilgrim I on earth perplext , with sinns , with cares and sorrows vext , By age and paines brought to decay , and my Clay house mouldring away , Oh how ...
Page 23
... Fall , and only his Trespass , 150 You call amiss to call it his , both his and yours it was . " ... " You sinners are , and such a share as sinners may expect Such you shall have ; for I do save 155 none but my own Elect . Yet to ...
... Fall , and only his Trespass , 150 You call amiss to call it his , both his and yours it was . " ... " You sinners are , and such a share as sinners may expect Such you shall have ; for I do save 155 none but my own Elect . Yet to ...
Page 36
... fall To its late Caoss ? Had thy riged force Bin delt by retale and not thus in gross , Griefe had bin silent . Now wee must complaine , Since thou in him hast more then thousand slane , Whose lives and safetys did so much depend On him ...
... fall To its late Caoss ? Had thy riged force Bin delt by retale and not thus in gross , Griefe had bin silent . Now wee must complaine , Since thou in him hast more then thousand slane , Whose lives and safetys did so much depend On him ...
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Abraham Davenport Acadian ANNABEL LEE arms Arsaces Atlantic Monthly Babie Bell beauty behold bells beneath bird breath bright Brown Brown University cloud dark dead dear death deep door doth dream earth edition Evangeline eyes face fair father fear fire flowers forest friends gleam Grand-Pré grave green hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha hill Indian land laugh leaves light live look maiden maize moon morning mountain never Nevermore night Nokomis o'er Osawatomie pain poem poet river rose round shade shadow shine shore silent sing Sir Launfal sleep smile snow soft song sorrow soul sound Southern Literary Messenger spirit stars stood stream summer sweet tears tell thee thet thine thought trees Union Flag unto URIAN OAKES village voice waves wild wind wings wonder woods words ΙΟ
Popular passages
Page 507 - He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored ; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps; I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps: His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel, writ in...
Page 211 - 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. Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The agate lamp within thy hand! Ah, Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy Land! Israfel And the angel...
Page 381 - 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 221 - I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...
Page 558 - But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart; And passing even into my purer mind. With tranquil restoration...
Page 220 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,— " Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore !" Quoth the Raven,
Page 221 - Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door, Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore.
Page 228 - With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago. In this kingdom by the sea...
Page 227 - Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan.
Page 507 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.