The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf WhittierJ. R. Osgood, 1873 - 395 pàgines |
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Resultats 1 - 5 de 66.
Pàgina 8
... blow . The fisher , as he drops his line , Starts , when he sees the hazels quiver Along the margin of the river , Looks up and down the rippling tide , And grasps the firelock at his side . For Bomazeen 15 from Tacconock Has sent his ...
... blow . The fisher , as he drops his line , Starts , when he sees the hazels quiver Along the margin of the river , Looks up and down the rippling tide , And grasps the firelock at his side . For Bomazeen 15 from Tacconock Has sent his ...
Pàgina 12
... blow , Sweeps , like a storm , the coming foe . " Save me , O holy man ! " - her cry Fills all the void , as if a tongue , Unseen , from rib and rafter hung , Thrilling with mortal agony ; Her hands are clasping the Jesuit's knee , And ...
... blow , Sweeps , like a storm , the coming foe . " Save me , O holy man ! " - her cry Fills all the void , as if a tongue , Unseen , from rib and rafter hung , Thrilling with mortal agony ; Her hands are clasping the Jesuit's knee , And ...
Pàgina 13
... blow , Defiant still , he dies . " So fare all eaters of the frog ! Death to the Babylonish dog ! Down with the beast of Rome ! " With shouts like these , around the dead , Unconscious on his bloody bed , The rangers crowding come ...
... blow , Defiant still , he dies . " So fare all eaters of the frog ! Death to the Babylonish dog ! Down with the beast of Rome ! " With shouts like these , around the dead , Unconscious on his bloody bed , The rangers crowding come ...
Pàgina 14
... blowing , And odors from the springing grass , The pine - tree and the sassafras , Are with it on its errands going . - A band is marching through the wood Where rolls the Kennebec his flood , The warriors of the wilderness , Painted ...
... blowing , And odors from the springing grass , The pine - tree and the sassafras , Are with it on its errands going . - A band is marching through the wood Where rolls the Kennebec his flood , The warriors of the wilderness , Painted ...
Pàgina 17
... blowing From the green hills , immortal in his lays . And for myself , obedient to her wish , I searched our landlord's proffered li brary , A well - thumbed Bunyan , with its nice wood pictures Of scaly fiends and angels not unlike ...
... blowing From the green hills , immortal in his lays . And for myself , obedient to her wish , I searched our landlord's proffered li brary , A well - thumbed Bunyan , with its nice wood pictures Of scaly fiends and angels not unlike ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier John Greenleaf Whittier Visualització completa - 1894 |
The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier John Greenleaf Whittier Visualització completa - 1895 |
The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier John Greenleaf Whittier Visualització completa - 1879 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
angels beauty beneath bird blessed bloom blow breath brow calm cloud dark dead dear dream earth Esbern Snare eternal evermore eyes face faith fall fathers fear feet fire flowers FRANCIS DANIEL PASTORIUS freedom God's gold golden Goody Cole grace grave gray green Hampton River hand hath hear heard heart heaven hills holy human Indian Joseph Sturge land light lips living look Lord mountain never Newbury town night Norembega Norridgewock o'er pain peace Pennacook pines poor praise pray prayer praying Indian Quaker rills round sail shade shadow shame shine shore silent sing skyr slave Slavery smile song soul sound spirit strong summer sunset sweet tears tender thee thine thou thought toil Toussaint L'Ouverture tread trees truth unto voice wall waves weary Weetamoo wild William Penn wind woods words wrong
Passatges populars
Pàgina 286 - The sun that brief December day Rose cheerless over hills of gray, And, darkly circled, gave at noon A sadder light than waning moon. Slow tracing down the thickening sky Its mute and ominous prophecy, A portent seeming less than threat, It sank from sight before it set. A chill no coat, however stout, Of homespun stuff could quite shut out, A hard, dull bitterness of cold, That checked, mid-vein, the circling race Of life-blood in the sharpened face, The coming of the snow-storm told.
Pàgina 226 - Said old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart By the women of Marblehead ! Then the wife of the skipper lost at sea Said, " Grod has touched him ! why should we ? " Said an old wife mourning her only son, " Cut the rogue's tether and let him run!
Pàgina 385 - TOUSSAINT, the most unhappy Man of Men ! Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough Within thy hearing, or thy head be now Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den ; — O miserable Chieftain ! where and when Wilt thou find patience ? Yet die not ; do thou Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow : Though fallen Thyself, never to rise again, Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind Powers that will work for thee ; air, earth, and skies ; There's not a breathing of the common wind That will...
Pàgina 270 - Fair as a garden of the Lord To the eyes of the famished rebel horde, On that pleasant morn of the early fall, When Lee marched over the mountain wall; Over the mountains, winding down, Horse and foot into Frederick town. Forty flags with their silver stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind; the sun Of noon looked down and saw not one.
Pàgina 204 - Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth Of simple beauty and rustic health. Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee The mock-bird echoed from his tree. But when she glanced to the far-off town, White from its hill-slope looking down, The sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast, — A wish, that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known. The Judge rode slowly down the lane, Smoothing his horse's chestnut mane.
Pàgina 196 - ... BOY BLESSINGS on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan! With thy turned-up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tunes; With thy red lip, redder still Kissed by strawberries on the hill ; With the sunshine on thy face, Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace; From my heart I give thee joy, — I was once a barefoot boy ! Prince thou art, — the grown-up man Only is republican.
Pàgina 206 - She wedded a man unlearned and poor, And many children played round her door. But care and sorrow, and childbirth pain, Left their traces on heart and brain.
Pàgina 146 - So fallen ! so lost ! the light withdrawn Which once he wore ! The glory from his gray hairs gone Forevermore ! Revile him not — the Tempter hath A snare for all ; And pitying tears, not scorn and wrath, Befit his fall ! Oh ! dumb be passion's stormy rage, When he who might Have lighted up and led his age, Falls back in night. Scorn ! would the angels laugh, to mark A bright soul driven, Fiend-goaded, down the endless dark, From hope and heaven...
Pàgina 226 - Here is the place; right over the hill Runs the path I took; You can see the gap in the old wall still, And the stepping-stones in the shallow brook. There is the house, with the gate redbarred, And the poplars tall; And the barn's brown length, and the cattleyard. And the white horns tossing above the wall.
Pàgina 287 - Or garden-wall, or belt of wood; A smooth white mound the brush-pile showed, A fenceless drift what once was road; The bridle-post an old man sat *° With loose-flung coat and high cocked hat; The well-curb had a Chinese roof; And even the long sweep, high aloof, In its slant splendor, seemed to tell Of Pisa's leaning miracle. A prompt, decisive man, no breath Our father wasted: "Boys, a path!