The Magazine of Poetry and Literary Review, Volume 51893 - American poetry |
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Results 1-5 of 89
Page iii
... Poet's Honeymoon . Serenade . A Fallen Idol . Comparisons . Pulchrorum Hutnueuns Pulcher . GILBERT , WILLIAM SCHWENCK . The Yarn of the Nancy Bell . To Phoebe . The Way of Wooing . Sing for the Garish Eye . BRITTINGHAM , FLORENCE V ...
... Poet's Honeymoon . Serenade . A Fallen Idol . Comparisons . Pulchrorum Hutnueuns Pulcher . GILBERT , WILLIAM SCHWENCK . The Yarn of the Nancy Bell . To Phoebe . The Way of Wooing . Sing for the Garish Eye . BRITTINGHAM , FLORENCE V ...
Page iv
... Poet - Laureate , Louis Belrose , Jr. Tennyson , John Fullerton . Ten- Tennyson , Alfred Austin . Tennyson , Sir Edwin Arnold . Tennyson , Louise Dead , H. D. Rawnsley . The Passing of Whittier , Allen Eastman Cross . To Whittier ...
... Poet - Laureate , Louis Belrose , Jr. Tennyson , John Fullerton . Ten- Tennyson , Alfred Austin . Tennyson , Sir Edwin Arnold . Tennyson , Louise Dead , H. D. Rawnsley . The Passing of Whittier , Allen Eastman Cross . To Whittier ...
Page 3
... poetic , but they lack fine technique . No doubt , had he received training in early life , he could have been ... Poets of America " ( 1848 ) ; " The Pilgrims of the Great St. Bernard , " prose , pub- lished as serial , " " The New ...
... poetic , but they lack fine technique . No doubt , had he received training in early life , he could have been ... Poets of America " ( 1848 ) ; " The Pilgrims of the Great St. Bernard , " prose , pub- lished as serial , " " The New ...
Page 9
... poets that have given to their coun- try some of the sweetest songs in the English tongue . Women who have been revered ... poet , sister and friend to the whole world . MY LEGACY . J. W. THEY told me I was heir . I turned in haste , And ...
... poets that have given to their coun- try some of the sweetest songs in the English tongue . Women who have been revered ... poet , sister and friend to the whole world . MY LEGACY . J. W. THEY told me I was heir . I turned in haste , And ...
Page 15
... poet was born . North , South , East or West , the children of song are kindred all . Had Mary Harris found a home for her happy childhood among the pleasant fields of New England instead of the wild , rugged and yet charmingly ...
... poet was born . North , South , East or West , the children of song are kindred all . Had Mary Harris found a home for her happy childhood among the pleasant fields of New England instead of the wild , rugged and yet charmingly ...
Common terms and phrases
angels beauty bells beneath birds bless bloom blossoms blue born Boston brave breast breath bright brow child clouds dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth Edgar Poe ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ELLA WHEELER WILCOX EMMA LAZARUS eyes face fair feet flowers FRANCIS SALTUS SALTUS glad gleam glory glow golden grace hand happy hath hear heart heaven hope Ibid James Barron JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER kiss land life's light lips live London look Lord love's Magazine of Poetry Miscellaneous Poems morning mother neath never Nevermore night o'er pain peace poet portrait published rest rose SAM WALTER FOSS SARAH HELEN WHITMAN shadows shine sigh silent sing sleep smile song sorrow soul stars summer sweet tears tender thee thine things thought to-day verse voice weary WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT wind wings words York young
Popular passages
Page 220 - A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet.
Page 34 - For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see — Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be ; Saw the heavens...
Page 128 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door — "'Tis some visitor, "I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.
Page 133 - 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.
Page 133 - Oh, from out the sounding cells What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the Future ! how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells— To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
Page 225 - Fair as a garden of the Lord To the eyes of the famished rebel horde. On that pleasant morn of the early fall When Lee marched over the mountain wall, Over the mountains, winding down, Horse and foot into Frederick town, Forty flags with their silver stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind ; the sun Of noon looked down, and saw not one.
Page 384 - There will I ask of Christ the Lord Thus much for him and me: — Only to live as once on earth With Love, — only to be, As then awhile, for ever now Together, I and he." She gazed and listened and then said, Less sad of speech than mild, — "All this is when he comes.
Page 31 - Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd.
Page 225 - O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Page 133 - Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, 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.