Class-book of English poetry |
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arms beautiful bells beneath beside bird bless blow brave breast breath bright brow cheek child close cloud cold comes cried crown dark dead dear death deep dream earth face fair fall father fear flowers give gone grave green grief hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour king land late leaves light live looked Lord meet mind morning mother never night o'er once passed play poor pray prayer rest rose round sail seemed shore side sigh sight silent sleep smile song soul sound speak spring stand stars stood storm sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought tree turned Twas voice watch waters waves weep wept wild wind young
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155 ページ - And nothing can we call our own but death ; And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
134 ページ - I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams ; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
40 ページ - 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!
155 ページ - All murder'd : for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp...
134 ページ - The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder. I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast ; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
123 ページ - O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; And save his good broad-sword he weapon had none, He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
97 ページ - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
134 ページ - I am the daughter of earth and water, And the nursling of the sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain, The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams, Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
41 ページ - The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. 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.