The Poets and Poetry of America |
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Page 8
... Night ... ... 189 ..... 190 Napoleon's Grave ....... " My Life is like the Summer Rose " . Lord Byron ...... To the Mocking - Bird ... Live for Eternity .... HENRY WARE , JR .......... To the Ursa Major .......... Seasons of Prayer ...
... Night ... ... 189 ..... 190 Napoleon's Grave ....... " My Life is like the Summer Rose " . Lord Byron ...... To the Mocking - Bird ... Live for Eternity .... HENRY WARE , JR .......... To the Ursa Major .......... Seasons of Prayer ...
Page 9
... Night ... 262 From a Monody on J. W. Eastburn ... .262 The Apology ..... 298 Each in All .. .299 To the Manitto of Dreams ... .263 " Good - bye , Proud World ... .299 WILLIAM B. O. PEABODY .. .264 To the Humble - Bee ... .300 Hymn of ...
... Night ... 262 From a Monody on J. W. Eastburn ... .262 The Apology ..... 298 Each in All .. .299 To the Manitto of Dreams ... .263 " Good - bye , Proud World ... .299 WILLIAM B. O. PEABODY .. .264 To the Humble - Bee ... .300 Hymn of ...
Page 85
... night - hawk from his lone haunt hies , To chase the viewless insect through the skies ; The bat began his lantern - loving flight , The lonely whip - poor - will , our bird of night , Ever unseen , yet ever seeming near , His shrill ...
... night - hawk from his lone haunt hies , To chase the viewless insect through the skies ; The bat began his lantern - loving flight , The lonely whip - poor - will , our bird of night , Ever unseen , yet ever seeming near , His shrill ...
Page 89
... night , my task diurnal done , ( For I had travell'd with the sun O'er burning sands , o'er snows , ) Fatigued , I sought the couch of rest ; My wonted prayer to Heaven address'd ; But scarce had I my pillow press'd , When thus a vision ...
... night , my task diurnal done , ( For I had travell'd with the sun O'er burning sands , o'er snows , ) Fatigued , I sought the couch of rest ; My wonted prayer to Heaven address'd ; But scarce had I my pillow press'd , When thus a vision ...
Page 92
... night He pours his sulphurous breath , Hast known my petrifying wind Wild ocean's curling billows bind , Like bending sheaves by harvest hind , Erect in icy death ; " Or heard adown the mountain's steep The northern blast with furious ...
... night He pours his sulphurous breath , Hast known my petrifying wind Wild ocean's curling billows bind , Like bending sheaves by harvest hind , Erect in icy death ; " Or heard adown the mountain's steep The northern blast with furious ...
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Common terms and phrases
art thou beam beauty Ben Bolt beneath bird bless blue born bosom breast breath breeze bright brow charm clouds cold dark dead death deep dream earth evermore fair fame fear feel flowers friends gaze gentle glorious glory glow grace grave green hand Harvard College hast hath hear heart heaven hills holy hour land leaves life's light lips living lonely look lyre Massachusetts morning mountain muse N. P. WILLIS Nashaway ne'er never night o'er pale pass'd Phi Beta Kappa poems poet rills Rio Bravo round seem'd shade shadows shine shore sigh silent sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream sweet tears tempest thee thine thou art thought throne tree verse vex'd voice wandering wave weary wild wind wings woods Yale College youth
Popular passages
Page 477 - thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore, Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore!
Page 218 - They fought, like brave men, long and well ; They piled that ground with Moslem slain; They conquered— but Bozzaris fell, Bleeding at every vein. His few surviving comrades saw His smile when rang their proud hurrah, And the red field was won; Then saw in death his eyelids close, Calmly, as to a night's repose, Like flowers at set of sun.
Page 210 - The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then from his mansion in the sun She called her eagle bearer down.
Page 172 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there. And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
Page 300 - IN May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods, Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, To please the desert and the sluggish brook. The purple petals fallen in the pool Made the black water with their beauty gay; Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool, And court the flower that cheapens his array. Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, Tell them, dear, that, if eyes were made for seeing, Then beauty is its...
Page 477 - tis a gala night Within the lonesome latter years! An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears, Sit in a theatre, to see A play of hopes and fears, While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres. Mimes, in the form of God on high, Mutter and mumble low, And hither and thither fly — Mere puppets they, who come and go At bidding of vast formless things That shift the scenery to and fro, Flapping from out their condor wings Invisible Woe!
Page 478 - But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch's high estate, (Ah, let us mourn, for never morrow Shall dawn upon him desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed, Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.
Page 210 - Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frighted waves rush wildly back Before the broadside's reeling rack, Ea'ch dying wanderer of the sea Shall look at once to heaven and thee, And smile to see thy splendors fly In triumph o'er his closing eye.
Page 82 - As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, — and St. Nicholas too. And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, And his clothes...
Page 171 - No, they are all unchained again: The clouds Sweep over with their shadows, and, beneath, The surface rolls and fluctuates to the eye; Dark hollows seem to glide along and chase The sunny ridges.