The Oxford Book of American VerseBliss Carman Oxford University Press, 1927 - 680 Seiten |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 68
Seite 3
... sleep . Not so the ancients of these lands The Indian , when from life released , Again is seated with his friends , And shares again the joyous feast . His imaged birds , and painted bowl , And venison , for a journey dressed , Bespeak ...
... sleep . Not so the ancients of these lands The Indian , when from life released , Again is seated with his friends , And shares again the joyous feast . His imaged birds , and painted bowl , And venison , for a journey dressed , Bespeak ...
Seite 7
... sleep . And such the trust that still were mine , Though stormy winds swept o'er the brine , Or though the tempest's fiery breath Roused me from sleep to wreck and death . 6 . I In ocean cave , still safe with 7 SAMUEL WOODWORTH EMMA ...
... sleep . And such the trust that still were mine , Though stormy winds swept o'er the brine , Or though the tempest's fiery breath Roused me from sleep to wreck and death . 6 . I In ocean cave , still safe with 7 SAMUEL WOODWORTH EMMA ...
Seite 8
... sleep , Rocked in the cradle of the deep . JOHN PIERPONT My Child CANNOT make him dead ! His fair sunshiny head Is ever bounding round my study - chair ; Yet , when my eyes , now dim With tears , I turn to him , The vision vanishes he ...
... sleep , Rocked in the cradle of the deep . JOHN PIERPONT My Child CANNOT make him dead ! His fair sunshiny head Is ever bounding round my study - chair ; Yet , when my eyes , now dim With tears , I turn to him , The vision vanishes he ...
Seite 9
... sleep I wake , With my first breathing of the morning air My soul goes up with joy , To Him who gave my boy , Then comes the sad thought that When at the day's calm close , Before we seek repose , ― he is not there ! I'm with his mother ...
... sleep I wake , With my first breathing of the morning air My soul goes up with joy , To Him who gave my boy , Then comes the sad thought that When at the day's calm close , Before we seek repose , ― he is not there ! I'm with his mother ...
Seite 21
... sleep · the dead reign there alone . So shalt thou rest , and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living , and no friend Take note of thy departure ? All that breathe Will share thy destiny . The gay will laugh When thou art gone ...
... sleep · the dead reign there alone . So shalt thou rest , and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living , and no friend Take note of thy departure ? All that breathe Will share thy destiny . The gay will laugh When thou art gone ...
Inhalt
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Abraham Davenport Annabel Lee Auber beauty bells Ben Bolt beneath bird bloom blow blue breast breath bright dark dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair feet flowers gay beat gleam glory gold grass grave gray green hand hath hear heard heart heaven hills king knew land laugh leaves light lips live look Marblehead Maryland Maud Muller moon morning mother never Nevermore night o'er old Kentucky home Old North Church Osawatomie Osawatomie Brown peace poems Quoth the Raven rose round sail Sandalphon shade shadows shine ship shore silence sing sleep smile snow song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound stars stood strong sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought town tree Ulalume voice walk wall watch wave wild wind wings wonder woods word youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 16 - WHEN Freedom, from her mountain height, Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there ! She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure, celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then, from his mansion in the sun, She called her eagle-bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen land...
Seite 41 - WOODMAN, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough ! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy axe shall harm it not! That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea, — And wouldst thou hew it down? Woodman, forbear thy stroke! Cut not its earth-bound ties; O, spare that aged oak, Now towering to the skies!
Seite 148 - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main, — The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.
Seite 46 - The hand that rounded Peter's dome, And groined the aisles of Christian Rome, Wrought in a sad sincerity ; Himself from God he could not free ; He builded better than he knew ; — The conscious stone to beauty grew.
Seite 179 - O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! 0 Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
Seite 51 - Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven, And veils the farm-house at the garden's end. The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Seite 155 - HAVE you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay, That was built in such a logical way It ran a hundred years to a day, » And then, of a sudden, it — ah, but stay, I'll tell you what happened without delay, Scaring the parson into fits, Frightening people out of their wits, — Have you ever heard of that, I say? Seventeen hundred and fifty-five...
Seite 61 - TF the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again.
Seite 14 - Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise.
Seite 171 - Loud! loud! loud! Loud I call to you, my love! High and clear I shoot my voice over the waves, Surely you must know who is here, is here, You must know who I am, my love.