Ballads, Lyrics and Sonnets: From the Poetic Works of Henry Wadsworth LongfellowHoughton, Mifflin, 1889 - 230 страници |
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Страница 7
... Cross of Snow 199 To - Morrow 200 The Broken Oar • 201 202 Divina Commedia Seven Sonnets and a Canzone . I. The Artist 208 II . Fire . 209 III . Youth and Age 210 IV . Old Age 211 V. To Vittoria Colonna 212 VI . To Vittoria Colonna 213 ...
... Cross of Snow 199 To - Morrow 200 The Broken Oar • 201 202 Divina Commedia Seven Sonnets and a Canzone . I. The Artist 208 II . Fire . 209 III . Youth and Age 210 IV . Old Age 211 V. To Vittoria Colonna 212 VI . To Vittoria Colonna 213 ...
Страница 31
... The more the hail beats , and the more the rains fall , So love in our hearts shall grow mighty and strong , Through crosses , through sorrows , through manifold wrong . Shouldst thou be torn from me to wander alone In Annie of Tharaw 31.
... The more the hail beats , and the more the rains fall , So love in our hearts shall grow mighty and strong , Through crosses , through sorrows , through manifold wrong . Shouldst thou be torn from me to wander alone In Annie of Tharaw 31.
Страница 59
... 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 The Old Clock on the Stairs 59 The Old Clock on the Stairs.
... 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 The Old Clock on the Stairs 59 The Old Clock on the Stairs.
Страница 158
... sordid love of gain , And as indolent as he . Where are now the freighted barks From the marts of east and west ? Where the knights in iron sarks Journeying to the Holy Land , Glove of steel upon the hand , Cross of crimson 158 Amalfi.
... sordid love of gain , And as indolent as he . Where are now the freighted barks From the marts of east and west ? Where the knights in iron sarks Journeying to the Holy Land , Glove of steel upon the hand , Cross of crimson 158 Amalfi.
Страница 159
... Cross of crimson on the breast ? Where the pomp of camp and court ? Where the pilgrims with their prayers ? Where the merchants with their wares , And their gallant brigantines Sailing safely into port Chased by corsair Algerines ...
... Cross of crimson on the breast ? Where the pomp of camp and court ? Where the pilgrims with their prayers ? Where the merchants with their wares , And their gallant brigantines Sailing safely into port Chased by corsair Algerines ...
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Angel Apennines art thou beautiful belfry BELISARIUS Bells of Lynn beneath Beware breast breath bright Bruges burning celestial CHILDREN'S HOUR crown dark dead death deep divine door dream dreary drifting Edition Enceladus Excelsior eyes fair feet fire flame forever Forever Never gate gleam golden grave guests hand hear heard heart heaven hour Jaen King Robert land laughing light long thoughts look loud maiden midnight mist Monk morning never Never forever nevermore night night-wind o'er Old North Church pain passed Paul Revere poet prayer roar round sails sand seemed shadow shine ships shore Sicily silent singing sleep snow song soul sound splendor stair star steed street sweet thou thoughts of youth tide toil tower town unto Valmond Vaud Victor Galbraith village vision VITTORIA COLONNA voice wakeful eyes walls wander watched waves weary wild wind wind's wreck youth are long
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Страница 26 - 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 27 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling — rejoicing — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
Страница 37 - Dark lowers the tempest overhead, The roaring torrent is deep and wide!" And loud that clarion voice replied, Excelsior! "Oh stay," the maiden said, "and rest Thy weary head upon this breast!
Страница 117 - And Nature, the old nurse, took The child upon her knee, Saying : " Here is a story-book Thy Father has written for thee. •• Come, wander with me," she said, " Into regions yet untrod ; And read what is still unread . In the manuscripts of God." And he wandered away and away, With Nature, the dear old nurse, Who sang to him night and day The rhymes of the universe. And whenever the way seemed long Or his heart began to fail, She would sing a more wonderful song, Or tell a more marvellous tale.
Страница 58 - Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time.
Страница 86 - We have not wings, we cannot soar ; But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, by more and more, The cloudy summits of our time.
Страница 57 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist...
Страница 102 - 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 16 - THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. IT was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea ; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company.
Страница 72 - Not as a child shall we again behold her ; For when with raptures wild In our embraces we again enfold her, She will not be a child ; But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion, Clothed with celestial grace ; And beautiful with all the soul's expansion Shall we behold her face. And though at times impetuous with emotion And anguish long suppressed, The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean, That cannot be at rest, — We will be patient, and assuage the feeling We may not wholly stay ; By...