The Courtship of Miles Standish: And Other PoemsUniversity Publishing, 1901 - 142 страници |
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Страница 7
... battle was hottest . 80 Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying pen of the stripling , Busily writing epistles important , to go by the " Mayflower , " Ready to sail on the morrow , or next day at latest , ' God willing ...
... battle was hottest . 80 Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying pen of the stripling , Busily writing epistles important , to go by the " Mayflower , " Ready to sail on the morrow , or next day at latest , ' God willing ...
Страница 8
... Battles five hundred he fought , and a thousand cities he con- quered ; 3 He , too , fought in Flanders , as he ... battle at Philippi , he committed suicide . And the immortal Twelfth Legion ' was crowded so closely 8 THE COURTSHIP OF.
... Battles five hundred he fought , and a thousand cities he con- quered ; 3 He , too , fought in Flanders , as he ... battle at Philippi , he committed suicide . And the immortal Twelfth Legion ' was crowded so closely 8 THE COURTSHIP OF.
Страница 9
... battle of something - or - other . ' That's what I always say ; if you wish a thing to be well done , You must do it yourself , you must not leave it to others ! " All was silent again ; the Captain continued his reading . 30 Nothing ...
... battle of something - or - other . ' That's what I always say ; if you wish a thing to be well done , You must do it yourself , you must not leave it to others ! " All was silent again ; the Captain continued his reading . 30 Nothing ...
Страница 20
... battles in Flan- ders , How with the people of God he had chosen to suffer affliction , ' How , in return for his zeal , they had made him Captain of Plymouth ; 135 He was a gentleman born , could trace his pedigree plainly Back to Hugh ...
... battles in Flan- ders , How with the people of God he had chosen to suffer affliction , ' How , in return for his zeal , they had made him Captain of Plymouth ; 135 He was a gentleman born , could trace his pedigree plainly Back to Hugh ...
Страница 23
... battle ! 25 Shame and confusion of guilt , and abasement and self - con- demnation , Overwhelmed him at once ; and he cried in the deepest con- trition : " It hath displeased the Lord ! It is the temptation of Sa- tan ! " Then ...
... battle ! 25 Shame and confusion of guilt , and abasement and self - con- demnation , Overwhelmed him at once ; and he cried in the deepest con- trition : " It hath displeased the Lord ! It is the temptation of Sa- tan ! " Then ...
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accent Albrecht Dürer Angels beautiful beheld Belfry of Bruges Bible breath Bruges Cæsar cæsura Captain of Plymouth Captain Standish church cilla colony Courtship of Miles dark dead death England English Evangeline Excelsior eyes feeling feet Flanders flowers forest Forever-never friendship gleam grave gray Guy de Dampierre hand heard heart HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW hexameter humor Humphrey Gilbert Indian John Alden Julius Cæsar land laugh light living long thoughts Longfellow look loud matchlock Mayflower meter Miles Standish mist Never-forever night o'er ocean pause Pecksuot Pilgrims Plym Plymouth Plantation poem poet poetry prayer Priscilla Priscilla Mullens Puritan rain roar rock Rose sail Sandalphon sang shadows ship silent snow soldier song sound spake stood story strong sweet Thereupon answered thoughts of youth unaccented syllable vessel village voice wave wife wild William Brewster wind wind's Winslow words youth are long
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Страница 100 - 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 76 - He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat, Against the stinging blast ; He cut a rope from a broken spar, And bound her to the mast. "O father ! I hear the church-bells ring, O say, what may it be ? " " Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast ! " — And he steered for the open sea.
Страница 101 - Half-way up the stairs it stands, And points and beckons with its hands From its case of massive oak, Like a monk, who, under his cloak, Crosses himself, and sighs, alas ! With sorrowful voice to all who pass, — " Forever — never ! Never — forever !
Страница 130 - MY LOST YOUTH. OFTEN I think of the beautiful town That is seated by the sea ; Often in thought go up and down The pleasant streets of that dear- old town, And my youth comes back to me. And a verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still : " A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.
Страница 70 - Oft to his frozen lair Tracked I the grisly bear, While from my path the hare Fled like a shadow; • Oft through the forest dark Followed the were-wolf 's bark, Until the soaring lark Sang from the meadow.
Страница 122 - The mighty pyramids of stone That wedge-like cleave the desert airs, When nearer seen, and better known, Are but gigantic flights of stairs. The distant mountains, that uprear Their solid bastions to the skies, Are crossed by pathways, that appear As we to higher levels rise. The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night.
Страница 81 - At break of day, as heavenward The pious monks of Saint Bernard Uttered the oft-repeated prayer, A voice cried through the startled air Excelsior ! A traveller, by the faithful hound, Half-buried in the snow was found, Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device Excelsior ! There in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay, And from the sky, serene and far, A voice fell, like a falling star, Excelsior ! POEMS ON SLAVERY.
Страница 119 - 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 61 - TELL me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Страница 62 - I have naught that is fair ?" saith he ; "Have naught but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves.