Seaweeds from the Shores of NantucketCrosby, Nichols, 1853 - 135 páginas |
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Términos y frases comunes
aught beauteous beauty beneath birds bless breast breathe bright brightest brine brow clouds Coatue cold Cross crowned dark dead dear death deep doth e'en e'er earth fair fairies dwell fancy farewell Father feel Florence flowers forgot gaze gleam glory glow grace green hail hand Harper hath heart Heaven heavenly Holy Holy Land hopes hour hushed island land life's light Lillibel lily-bells magic melody mingle minstrelsy moccasins morn musing Nantucket Native Isle nature's ne'er neath Neptune night o'er ocean PALESTINE plain roam rock round Sachem scene SEAWEEDS shade shearing pen shore shrine silent slavery sleep slumber smile soul sound Speak gently spirit star stood strain stream summer sung sweet tell thee thine thou hast thought toil TRENTON FALLS tu I can't Twas Twill voice wander waves wind wouldst zephyrs
Pasajes populares
Página 131 - The golden ripple on the wall came back again, and nothing else stirred in the room. The old, old fashion! The fashion that came in with our first garments, and will last unchanged until our race has run its course, and the wide firmament is rolled up like a scroll.
Página 3 - MY NATIVE ISLE. Undecked, unlovely as thou art, A speck upon the world's great chart, Thou art our native spot ; And true to nature, still we love, And by affection still we prove, Thy faults can be forgot. We know the grandest, loftiest pines Have left to grace more genial climes, Yet lovely plants here thrive ; The violet bland, and violet blue, And violet of cerulean hue, Betoken spring 's alive.
Página 34 - For a' that and a' that, His body chained, and a' that, The image of his God remains. The slave's a man for a" that. How dark the spirit that enslaves; Yet darker still than a' that, He, who amid the light, still craves Apologies, and a' that: For a
Página 54 - Tis tu I can't, and tu I can, All the way to shearing pen. The Harper seats him 'neath a tent, Made of a mainsail, patched and rent; The curious folk, of every hue, Looked on as though they'd look him through; He signifies his calm intent To drink — of the liquid element; He eats a large three-cornered bun; And then, his slight refection done, He takes his harp, and plays again The same mysterious wild refrain, — 'Tis tu I can't, and tu I can, All the way to shearing pen.
Página 51 - At case, he freely breathed awhile, Which sent the fogs to bless our isle ; And turning East, with quickened motion, The chill, bleak winds came o'er the ocean. Hi-judging Sachem ! would that you Had never shaken here that shoe. Or, having done so, would again, And join Nantucket to the main ! " Having had a peep within the nest, you sigh for the return of the bird, and we will on.
Página 55 - Twill be so when the world is done. Who was the Harper ? what his strain ? Wait till you hear him play again, — Tis tu I can't, and tu I can, All the way to shearing pen. 1844. 'OH! WOULD SOME FAIRY SPELL WERE MINE!
Página 52 - OLD Ocean's stormy barrier passed, The Harper gained the beach at last ; He seized his harp, he leaped ashore ; He played his wild refrain once more, The same old sixpence, tu and tu, Echoed the shores of bleak Coatue ; 'Twas tu I can't, and tu I can, All the way to shearing pen. Onward, but not unheeded, went The Harper old ; his form was bent, His doublet wool, his hose were tow, His pantaloons were cut so, so ; The people gazed, the coofs admired, And many stranger things transpired ; THE HARPEE.
Página 35 - The image of his God remains, — The slave's a man for a' that. How dark the spirit that enslaves ! Yet darker still than a' that, He who, amid the light, still craves Apologies, and a
Página 34 - Which nature claims, and a' that, There's that which in the slave unites To make the man for a' that: For a1 that and a1 that, Though dark his skin, and a' that, We cannot rob him of his kind, The slave's a man for a
Página 4 - ... genial climes, Yet lovely plants here thrive ; The violet bland, and violet blue, And violet of cerulean hue, Betoken spring's alive. Thy fatal shores, and sandy shoals, Round which the foaming white cap rolls, All hopes of safety blast; The pale affrighted sailor eyes The dangers that around him rise, And turns away aghast ! Hence ! all ye light, fantastic schemes, Teeming with fancy's flimsy dreams, No more my thoughts beguile, It is not in your power to tell Who toss'd it up on ocean's swell,...