American Poems (1625-1892)Walter Cochrane Bronson University of Chicago Press, 1912 - 669 pages |
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Page 27
... shore , Where nought but bruits and salvage wights did swarm ( Untaught , untrain'd , untam'd by vertue's lore ) , That sought their blood , yet could not do them harm ? 10 My fury's flaile them thresht , my fatall broom Did sweep them ...
... shore , Where nought but bruits and salvage wights did swarm ( Untaught , untrain'd , untam'd by vertue's lore ) , That sought their blood , yet could not do them harm ? 10 My fury's flaile them thresht , my fatall broom Did sweep them ...
Page 47
... the empty skiff salutes the shore In with impetuous haste they clustering pour ; The men the head , the stern the ladies grace , And neighing horses fill the middle space . 40 45 Sunk deep , the boat floats slow the waves along ANONYMOUS ...
... the empty skiff salutes the shore In with impetuous haste they clustering pour ; The men the head , the stern the ladies grace , And neighing horses fill the middle space . 40 45 Sunk deep , the boat floats slow the waves along ANONYMOUS ...
Page 48
... shore and leave the threat'ning tide , While to receive the pay the boat - man stands , And chinking pennys jingle in his hands . Eager the sparks assault the waiting cars , Fops meet with fops and clash in civil wars : Off fly the wigs ...
... shore and leave the threat'ning tide , While to receive the pay the boat - man stands , And chinking pennys jingle in his hands . Eager the sparks assault the waiting cars , Fops meet with fops and clash in civil wars : Off fly the wigs ...
Page 58
... shore ; But ' ere he the mid - stream gain'd , a poignant pain Shot thro ' his well - strung nerves , contracting all , And the stiff joints refus'd their wonted aid . 90 S6 95 Loudly he cry'd for help : Arsaces heard , And 58 AMERICAN ...
... shore ; But ' ere he the mid - stream gain'd , a poignant pain Shot thro ' his well - strung nerves , contracting all , And the stiff joints refus'd their wonted aid . 90 S6 95 Loudly he cry'd for help : Arsaces heard , And 58 AMERICAN ...
Page 72
... shore , 10 15 As she play'd with the flood , as she play'd with the flood . 20 The guards of the camp , on that dark , dreary night , Had a murderous will , had a murderous will : They took him and bore him afar from the shore , To a ...
... shore , 10 15 As she play'd with the flood , as she play'd with the flood . 20 The guards of the camp , on that dark , dreary night , Had a murderous will , had a murderous will : They took him and bore him afar from the shore , To a ...
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Common terms and phrases
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.