A New Library of Poetry and Song, Volume 2William Cullen Bryant |
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Page 453
... blow the giddy nations into rage ; Who sheathes the murderous blade ; the deadly gun Into the well - piled armory returns ; And , every vigor from the work of death To grateful industry converting , makes The country flourish and the ...
... blow the giddy nations into rage ; Who sheathes the murderous blade ; the deadly gun Into the well - piled armory returns ; And , every vigor from the work of death To grateful industry converting , makes The country flourish and the ...
Page 454
... blow ; At which command the powers militant That stood for heaven , in mighty quadrate joined Of union irresistible , moved on In silence their bright legions , to the sound Of instrumental harmony , that breathed Heroic ardor to ...
... blow ; At which command the powers militant That stood for heaven , in mighty quadrate joined Of union irresistible , moved on In silence their bright legions , to the sound Of instrumental harmony , that breathed Heroic ardor to ...
Page 457
... blow for God . " Last night as in my bed I lay , I dreamed a dreary dream : - Methought I saw a Pilgrim stand In the moonlight's quivering beam . " His robe was of the azure dye , Snow - white his scattered hairs , And even such a cross ...
... blow for God . " Last night as in my bed I lay , I dreamed a dreary dream : - Methought I saw a Pilgrim stand In the moonlight's quivering beam . " His robe was of the azure dye , Snow - white his scattered hairs , And even such a cross ...
Page 465
... blow , Whether for weal or woe ; Glad to breathe one free breath , Though on the lips of death ; Praying , alas ! in vain ! — - That they might fall again , So they could once more see That burst to liberty ! This was what " freedom ...
... blow , Whether for weal or woe ; Glad to breathe one free breath , Though on the lips of death ; Praying , alas ! in vain ! — - That they might fall again , So they could once more see That burst to liberty ! This was what " freedom ...
Page 467
... blow ; 66 Menteith and Breadalbane , then , Echo his praise again , Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu , ho ! ieroe ! " Proudly our pibroch has thrilled in Glen Fruin , And Bannachar's groans to our slogan replied ; Glen Luss and Ross - dhu ...
... blow ; 66 Menteith and Breadalbane , then , Echo his praise again , Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu , ho ! ieroe ! " Proudly our pibroch has thrilled in Glen Fruin , And Bannachar's groans to our slogan replied ; Glen Luss and Ross - dhu ...
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Common terms and phrases
ALEXANDER POPE ALFRED TENNYSON Anne Hathaway arms beauty bells BEN JONSON beneath blessed blood blow blue brave breast breath bright brow clouds cried crown dark dead dear death Deborah Lee deep doth dream earth eyes face fair fame fear fell FITZ-GREENE HALLECK flowers frae gazed glory gold grace grave gray green hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER king land Lars Porsena light lips live look Lord LORD BYRON moon morning ne'er never nevermore night o'er Osawatomie peace roar ROBERT BURNS rock rose round shine shore silent sing sleep smile song soul sound stars steed stood stream sweet sword tears tell thee thine things thou thought thunder toil voice wave wild WILLIAM COWPER wind wings wonder
Popular passages
Page 626 - Earth has not anything to show more fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers,, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Page 815 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Page 556 - 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.
Page 783 - Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water everywhere Nor any drop to drink.
Page 709 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow, Through the sweet-brier, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
Page 461 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet — But hark!
Page 818 - Peace to all such! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires; Blest with each talent, and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease; Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
Page 723 - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Page 709 - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful jollity, Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek : Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go, On the light fantastic toe...
Page 657 - Hear the tolling of the bells 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. And the people - ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling...