The Bowdoin PoetsJ. Griffin, 1840 - 188 páginas |
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Página 1
... silent pace ! That spirit moves In the green valley , where the silver brook , From its full laver , pours the white cascade ; And , babbling low amid the tangled woods , Slips down through moss - grown stones with endless laughter ...
... silent pace ! That spirit moves In the green valley , where the silver brook , From its full laver , pours the white cascade ; And , babbling low amid the tangled woods , Slips down through moss - grown stones with endless laughter ...
Página 2
... silent majesty of these deep woods , Its presence shall uplift thy thoughts from earth , As to the sunshine and the pure bright air , Their tops the green trees lift . Hence gifted bards Have ever loved the calm and quiet shade . For ...
... silent majesty of these deep woods , Its presence shall uplift thy thoughts from earth , As to the sunshine and the pure bright air , Their tops the green trees lift . Hence gifted bards Have ever loved the calm and quiet shade . For ...
Página 10
... its flight ; But still , its chords along , Murmurs my last ' good night ! -The melody had ceased , -the harper gone ; And , silent all , the waning night pass'd on . NIGHT IN THE WOODS . BY EPHRAIM PEABODY . " 10 BOWDOIN POETS .
... its flight ; But still , its chords along , Murmurs my last ' good night ! -The melody had ceased , -the harper gone ; And , silent all , the waning night pass'd on . NIGHT IN THE WOODS . BY EPHRAIM PEABODY . " 10 BOWDOIN POETS .
Página 11
... silent sky ! Through the narrow forest opening , Looks down its peaceful eye . The tranquil stars pass o'er me one by one- The silver clouds rise up - float o'er - are gone . The forest pines which circle round Like dark towers at my ...
... silent sky ! Through the narrow forest opening , Looks down its peaceful eye . The tranquil stars pass o'er me one by one- The silver clouds rise up - float o'er - are gone . The forest pines which circle round Like dark towers at my ...
Página 12
... silence of eternity is laid . The moving heavens ! -the Spirit's power In glory bids them roll ; The music of the many spheres- ' Tis sounding through the soul ! The Vast ! the Beautiful ! -in mystery , Deep in the soul's abyss unseen ...
... silence of eternity is laid . The moving heavens ! -the Spirit's power In glory bids them roll ; The music of the many spheres- ' Tis sounding through the soul ! The Vast ! the Beautiful ! -in mystery , Deep in the soul's abyss unseen ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Autumn beam beauty beneath bosom BOWDOIN COLLEGE bowers breast breath bright brow calm CHARLES H clouds cold COVENANTERS dark dead death deep dews dream earth fair faith Farewell fears fled flowers flowers of Eden foaming path fragrant friends gaze gentle GEORGE F glade gleam gloom glory grave green hath haunts heart heaven HENRY W hopes hour infant joyous leaves life's light live alway lonely maddening bowl morning mother mournful MUSIC AND MEMORY NATHANIEL L ne'er neath night numbered o'er o'er thy ocean old time loved passed perished prayer proud rest ROBERT WYMAN roll round rushing SEBA SMITH shore sigh silent skies sleep slumbers smile soft song soothing sorrow soul spirit stars stern storms strain stream strife sweet swell tears tempest's thee thine thought throng tread trembling Twas virgin train voice wake wave weep wild wing withering youth
Pasajes populares
Página 31 - White as a sea-fog, landward bound, The spectral camp was seen, And with a sorrowful, deep sound, The river flowed between. No other voice nor sound was there, No drum, nor sentry's pace ; The mist-like banners clasped the air, As clouds with clouds embrace. But, when the old cathedral bell Proclaimed the morning prayer, The white pavilions rose and fell On the alarmed air. Down the broad valley, fast and far, The troubled army fled ; Up rose the glorious morning star, The ghastly host was dead.
Página 142 - Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door ; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more ; He, the young and strong, who cherished Noble longings for the strife, By the roadside fell and perished, Weary with the march of life...
Página 32 - ... heart of man, That strange and mystic scroll, That an army of phantoms vast and wan Beleaguer the human soul. Encamped beside Life's rushing stream, In Fancy's misty light, Gigantic shapes and shadows gleam Portentous through the night. Upon its midnight battle-ground The spectral camp is seen, And, with a sorrowful, deep sound, Flows the River of Life between. No other voice nor sound is there, In the army of the grave ; No other challenge breaks the air, But the rushing of Life's wave.
Página 143 - And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies. Uttered not, yet comprehended, Is the spirit's voiceless prayer, Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, Breathing from her lips of air. O, though oft depressed and lonely, All my fears are laid aside, If I but remember...
Página 2 - Hence gifted bards Have ever loved the calm and quiet shades. For them there was an eloquent voice in all The sylvan pomp of woods, the golden sun, The flowers, the leaves, the river on its way, Blue skies, and silver clouds, and gentle winds...
Página 30 - I HAVE read, in some old marvellous tale, Some legend strange and vague, That a midnight host of spectres pale Beleaguered the walls of Prague. Beside the Moldau's rushing stream, With the wan moon overhead, TTiere stood, as in an awful dream, The army of the dead.
Página 26 - The babe was sleeping on her breast. And colder still the winds did blow, And darker hours of night came on, And deeper grew the drifting snow : Her limbs were chilled, her strength was gone. " O God ! " she cried in accents wild, " If I must perish, save my child ! " She stripped her mantle from her breast, And bared her bosom to the storm.
Página 24 - Gray watcher of the waters ! Thou art king Of the blue lake ; and all the winged kind Do fear the echo of thine angry cry. How bright thy savage eye ! Thou lookest down, And seest the shining fishes as they glide ; And poising thy gray wing, thy glossy beak Swift as an arrow strikes its roving prey.
Página 21 - WELL do I love those various harmonies That ring so gayly in spring's budding woods, And in the thickets, and green, quiet haunts, And lonely copses of the summer-time, And in red autumn's ancient solitudes.
Página 26 - She stripped her mantle from her breast, And bared her bosom to the storm, And round the child she wrapped the vest, And smiled to think her babe was warm. With one cold kiss, one tear she shed, And sunk upon a snowy bed.