The Poems of Alfred B. Street

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Clark & Austin, 1847 - 315 страници
 

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Страница 92 - Low sprouts and herbs, before unseen, Display their shades of brown and green Tints brighten o'er the velvet moss, Gleams twinkle on the laurel's gloss; The robin, brooding in her nest, Chirps as the quick ray strikes her breast And, as my shadow prints the ground, I see the rabbit upward bound; With pointed ears an instant look; Then scamper to the darkest nook, Where, with crouched limb and staring eye, He watches while I saunter by.
Страница 90 - A LOVELY sky, a cloudless sun, A wind that breathes of leaves and flowers, O'er hill, through dale, my steps have won, To the cool forest's shadowy bowers ; One of the paths, all round that wind Traced by the browsing herds, I choose, And sights and sounds of human kind, In Nature's lone recesses lose ; The beech displays its marbled bark, The spruce its green tent stretches wide, While scowls the hemlock, grim and dark, The maple's...
Страница 28 - Eagle! oh, where is he now,' While the sky wears the smile of its God on its brow ? There's a dark, floating spot by yon cloud's pearly wreath. With the speed of the arrow 'tis shooting beneath; Down, nearer and nearer it draws to the gaze, Now over the rainbow, now blent with its blaze, To a shape it expands...
Страница 185 - Its snarling wolf-foe bit the ground, And with its moaning cry, The beaver sank beneath the wound, Its pond-built Venice by. Humble the lot, yet his the race, When liberty sent forth her cry, Who thronged in conflict's deadliest place, To fight, to bleed, to die ; Who cumbered Bunker's height of red.
Страница 90 - Why should we crave a hallowed spot ? An altar is in each man's cot ; A church in every grove that spreads Its living roof above our heads.
Страница 27 - The strong hawk hangs lifeless, a blood-dripping wreck ; And as dives the free kingfisher, dart-like on high With his prey soars the eagle, and melts in the sky.
Страница 23 - Nature is Man's best teacher. She unfolds Her treasures to his search, unseals his eye, Illumes his mind, and purifies his heart. An influence breathes from all the sights and sounds Of her existence ; she is Wisdom's self.
Страница 87 - That tick'd against each object round With gentle and continuous sound, Like brook o'er pebbled bed. The laurel tufts, that drooping hung Close roll'd around their stems, And the sear beech-leaves still that clung, Were white with powdering gems. But, hark ! afar a sullen moan Swell'd out to louder, deeper tone, As surging near it pass'd, And, bursting with a roar, and shock That made the groaning forest rock, On rush'd the winter blast. As o'er it whistled, shriek'd, and...
Страница 80 - But, sweet Spring! where art thou? • The white cloud floats mid smiling blue, The broad bright sunshine's golden hue Bathes the still frozen earth. 'Tis changed! above, black vapours roll: We turn from our expected stroll, And seek the blazing hearth. Hark ! that sweet carol ! with delight We leave the stifling room ! The little blue-bird greets our sight, Spring, glorious Spring, has come ! The south wind's...
Страница 22 - ... echoes, and each sound that strikes Upon the hollow air, lets loose their tongues. The ripples, creeping through the matted grass, Drip on the ear, and the far partridge-drum Rolls like low thunder. The last butterfly, Like a wing'd violet, floating in the meek, Pink-colour'd sunshine, sinks his velvet feet Within the pillar'd mullein's delicate down, And shuts and opens his unruffled fans.

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