The Writings of John Greenleaf Whittier in 7 V, Volum 1Macmillan & Company, 1888 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 79.
Pàgina 19
... God is free ! " . The hoary traveller went his way , but the gift he left behind Hath had its pure and perfect work on that high- born maiden's mind , And she hath turned from the pride of sin to the lowliness of truth , And given her ...
... God is free ! " . The hoary traveller went his way , but the gift he left behind Hath had its pure and perfect work on that high- born maiden's mind , And she hath turned from the pride of sin to the lowliness of truth , And given her ...
Pàgina 40
... god of War , Or Praga of the Runic lay , Or love - awakening Siona , - I know not , for no graven line , Nor Druid mark , nor Runic sign , Is left me here , by which to trace Its name , or origin , or place . Yet , for this vision of ...
... god of War , Or Praga of the Runic lay , Or love - awakening Siona , - I know not , for no graven line , Nor Druid mark , nor Runic sign , Is left me here , by which to trace Its name , or origin , or place . Yet , for this vision of ...
Pàgina 44
... fall Unheeded on that grassy pall . O peeled and hunted and reviled , Sleep on , dark tenant of the wild ! Great Nature owns her simple child ! 1841 . And Nature's God , to whom alone The 44 NARRATIVE AND LEGENDARY POEMS.
... fall Unheeded on that grassy pall . O peeled and hunted and reviled , Sleep on , dark tenant of the wild ! Great Nature owns her simple child ! 1841 . And Nature's God , to whom alone The 44 NARRATIVE AND LEGENDARY POEMS.
Pàgina 45
John Greenleaf Whittier. 1841 . And Nature's God , to whom alone The secret of the heart is known , The hidden language traced thereon ; --- Who from its many cumberings Of form and creed , and outward things , To light the naked spirit ...
John Greenleaf Whittier. 1841 . And Nature's God , to whom alone The secret of the heart is known , The hidden language traced thereon ; --- Who from its many cumberings Of form and creed , and outward things , To light the naked spirit ...
Pàgina 72
... God bless thee , and preserve thee , my gentle girl and dear ! " A weight seemed lifted from my heart , a pitying friend was nigh , — I felt it in his hard , rough hand , and saw it in his eye ; And when again the sheriff spoke , that ...
... God bless thee , and preserve thee , my gentle girl and dear ! " A weight seemed lifted from my heart , a pitying friend was nigh , — I felt it in his hard , rough hand , and saw it in his eye ; And when again the sheriff spoke , that ...
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Frases i termes més freqüents
angels beauty beneath bird bloom breath breeze Brown Dwarf child cloud cried dark dead dear door dream earth evil eyes face fair faith fear feet flowers God's golden goodwife grave gray green hair hand hath hear heard heart heaven hills holy Indian Ishmael Ben Elisha JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER land light lips living Loch Maree look Lord maid maiden Marblehead Martha Mason Merrimac mother Newbury town night Norembega o'er pain Passaconaway passed Pastorius Pennacook pity poor pray prayer pride priest Quaker Ramoth river rock rose round sailed Saugus shade shadow shame shone shore singing smiled song soul sound spake stone stood strong sweet thee thou thought town trees voice wall wampum waters waves weary Weetamoo Wenham Lake whisper wife wigwam wild William Penn wind witch wonder woods words young
Passatges populars
Pàgina 152 - But care and sorrow, and childbirth pain, Left their traces on heart and brain. And oft, when the summer sun shone hot On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot, And she heard the little...
Pàgina 151 - And saw Maud Muller standing still. " A form more fair, a face more sweet, Ne'er hath it been my lot to meet. " And her modest answer and graceful air Show her wise and good as she is fair. " Would she were mine, and I to-day, Like her, a harvester of hay; " No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs, Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues, " But low of cattle and song of birds, And health and quiet and loving words.
Pàgina 175 - OF all the rides since the birth of time, Told in story or sung in rhyme, — On Apuleius's Golden Ass, Or one-eyed Calendar's horse of brass, Witch astride of a human back, Islam's prophet on Al-Borak, — The strangest ride that ever was sped...
Pàgina 177 - Sweetly along the Salem road Bloom of orchard and lilac showed. Little the wicked skipper knew Of the fields so green and the sky so blue.
Pàgina 238 - MY PLAYMATE. THE pines were dark on Ramoth hill, Their song was soft and low; The blossoms in the sweet May wind Were falling like the snow. The blossoms drifted at our feet, The orchard birds sang clear; The sweetest and the saddest day It seemed of all the year. For, more to me than birds or flowers, My playmate left her home, And took with her the laughing spring, The music and the bloom. She kissed the lips of kith and kin, She laid her hand in mine What more could ask the bashful boy Who fed...
Pàgina 186 - 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 128 - And, step by step, since time began, I see the steady gain of man ; " That all of good the past hath had Remains to make our own time glad, Our common daily life divine, And every land a Palestine.
Pàgina 175 - Scores of women, old and young, Strong of muscle, and glib of tongue, Pushed and pulled up the rocky lane, Shouting and singing the shrill refrain: "Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt, Torr'd an' futherr'd an corr'd in a corrt By the women o...
Pàgina 150 - He spoke of the grass and flowers and trees, Of the singing birds and the humming bees; Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether The cloud in the west would bring foul weather. And Maud forgot her...
Pàgina 187 - Of the brook are her poor flowers, weed-o'errun, Pansy and daffodil, rose and pink. A year has gone, as the tortoise goes, Heavy and slow ; And the same rose blows, and the same sun glows, And the same brook sings of a year ago. There 's the same sweet clover-smell in the breeze ; And the June sun warm Tangles his wings of fire in the trees,. Setting, as then, over Fernside Farm.