The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth LongfellowHoughton, Osgood, 1880 - 417 páginas |
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Página 5
... Morning comes O'er - riding the grey hills with golden scarf ; Or when the cowled and dusky - sandaled Eve , In mourning weeds , from out the western gate , Departs with silent pace ! That spirit moves In the green valley , where the ...
... Morning comes O'er - riding the grey hills with golden scarf ; Or when the cowled and dusky - sandaled Eve , In mourning weeds , from out the western gate , Departs with silent pace ! That spirit moves In the green valley , where the ...
Página 6
... morning's dewy flowers , it comes Full of their fragrance , that it is a joy To have it round us , -and her silver voice Is the rich music of a summer bird , Heard in the still night , with its passionate cadence . Voices of the Night ...
... morning's dewy flowers , it comes Full of their fragrance , that it is a joy To have it round us , -and her silver voice Is the rich music of a summer bird , Heard in the still night , with its passionate cadence . Voices of the Night ...
Página 12
... morning prayer , The white pavilions rose and fell On the alarmed air . Down the broad valley fast and far The troubled army filed ; Up rose the glorious morning star , The ghastly host was dead . man , That strange and mystic scroll ...
... morning prayer , The white pavilions rose and fell On the alarmed air . Down the broad valley fast and far The troubled army filed ; Up rose the glorious morning star , The ghastly host was dead . man , That strange and mystic scroll ...
Página 20
... morning sees some task begin , Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted , something done , Has earned a night's repose . Thanks , thanks to thee , my worthy friend , For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of ...
... morning sees some task begin , Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted , something done , Has earned a night's repose . Thanks , thanks to thee , my worthy friend , For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of ...
Página 23
... Morning rises into noon , May glides onward into June . Childhood is the bough , where slumbered Birds and blossoms many - numbered ; - Age , that bough with snows encumbered . Gather , then , each flower that grows , When the young ...
... Morning rises into noon , May glides onward into June . Childhood is the bough , where slumbered Birds and blossoms many - numbered ; - Age , that bough with snows encumbered . Gather , then , each flower that grows , When the young ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Acadian Angel answered arrows Balt beautiful behold beneath birds breath bright Carlos Chibiabos clouds cried Dacotahs dance dark dead death door dreams earth Elsie Evangeline eyes face father fear Filled flowers forest Friar Gipsy Gitche Gumee gleam golden Grand-Pré grave hand hast hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha holy John Alden Kenabeek King Kwasind land Lara Laughing Water light listen look loud Lucifer maiden meadow Miles Standish Minnehaha Mondamin Monk moon morning night o'er old Nokomis Osseo Padre passed Pau-Puk-Keewis Paul Flemming poem poet Pray prayer Preciosa Prince Henry river rose round sail sang shadows shining Sigrid the Haughty silent singing sleep smile song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spake stars stood sunshine sweet thee thou art thought unto Vict village voice wait walls wampum wandered whispered wigwam wild wind words youth
Pasajes populares
Página 152 - There is no Death ! what seems so is transition ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Página 332 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair.
Página xxvii - Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals and forts : The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
Página 47 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Página 105 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Página 20 - The village smithy stands ; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands.
Página 147 - Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears. With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
Página 47 - I SHOT an arrow into the air, It fell to earth I knew not where ; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song ! Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke ; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.
Página 261 - Then the little Hiawatha Learned of every bird its language, Learned their names and all their secrets, How they built their nests in Summer, Where they hid themselves in Winter, Talked with them whene'er he met them, Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens.
Página 322 - A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I remember the sea-fight far away, How it thundered o'er the tide! And the dead captains as they lay In their graves o'erlooking the tranquil bay Where they in battle died. And the sound of that mournful song Goes through me with a thrill: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.