Golden Leaves from the American PoetsE. J. Huntington and Company, 1867 - 532 pàgines |
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Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
ANNABEL LEE BABIE BELL beauty bells beneath bird bless blue BLUEBEARD bosom brave breast breath breeze bright brow cheek cloud cold coursers dark dead death deep dream earth echo fair fairy falchion feet fire floating flowers gaze gleam glory glow golden grave green hand hast hath hear heart heaven HELON hill holy hour JOHN MACBRIDE KATHIE MORRIS land laugh leaves light lips live lonely look lyre maiden maize morning never Nevermore night o'er passed prayer pride proud Quoth the Raven rapture roll round sail shade shadows Shammar shine shore sigh sing sleep smile snow soft song soul sound spirit star-spangled banner stars storm stream sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou art thought throne toil tread tree Twas twill voice wave weary ween wild wind wings witch-hazel youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 84 - ATOPSIS. ^T*O him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Pàgina 246 - Only this and nothing more." Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December. And each separate, dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow ; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore — For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore, Nameless here forevermore.
Pàgina 58 - The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well. That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure; For often, at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
Pàgina 282 - EXCELSIOR. THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath, Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior...
Pàgina 250 - Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sent thee Respite — respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore ! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore ! " Quoth the Raven,
Pàgina 253 - Hear the sledges with the bells, Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars, that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme.
Pàgina 131 - When Freedom, from her mountain height. Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there! She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure, celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then, from his mansion in the sun. She called her eagle-bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen land.
Pàgina 62 - Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave 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?
Pàgina 62 - Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave; And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Pàgina 86 - The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.