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Acadian Angel answered arrows beautiful behold beneath birds breath bright Chibiabos clouds cried Dacotahs dark dead death dream earth Edenhall Elsie eyes face father fear Filled fire flowers forest Friar gazed gleam golden guests hand hast hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha holy Iagoo John Alden Kenabeek King Olaf Kwasind land Lara Laughing Water light listen look Lord loud Lucifer maiden meadow Miles Standish Minnehaha Mondamin moon morning Mudjekeewis night o'er Odin old Nokomis Osseo passed Pau-Puk-Keewis Pray prayer Prec Pree priest Prince Henry river rose round rushing sails sang shadow shining Sigrid the Haughty silent singing sleep smile song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spake stand stars stood strong sunshine sweet sword thee thou art thought unto Vict village voice wall wampum Wenonah whispered wigwam wild wind wonder words youth
Страница 421 - Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State ! Sail on, O Union, strong and great ! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope ! Fear not each sudden sound and shock, Tis of the wave and not the...
Страница 451 - Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease; And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say, "Peace !" Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies ! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.
Страница 379 - Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Страница 309 - Church, As it rose above the graves on the hill. Lonely and spectral and sombre and still. And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height A glimmer, and then a gleam of light! He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight A second lamp in the belfry burns ! A hurry of hoofs in a village street, A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet: That was all!
Страница 439 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Страница 381 - Dance upon the parlour wall ; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door ; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more ; He, the young and strong, who cherished...
Страница 427 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair...
Страница 450 - The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder, The rattling musketry, the clashing blade ; And ever and anon, in tones of thunder, The diapason of the cannonade. Is it, O man ! with such discordant noises, With such accursed instruments as these, Thou drownest Nature's sweet and kindly voices, And jarrest the celestial harmonies ? Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need...
Страница 404 - And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That, follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Страница 409 - From that chamber, clothed in white, The bride came forth on her wedding night ; There, in that silent room below, The dead lay in his shroud of snow And in the hush that followed the prayer, Was heard the old clock on the stair, — " Forever— never ! Never — forever! " All are scattered now and fled, Some are married, some are dead; And when I ask with throbs of pain, "Ah! when shall they all meet again?