The Poetical Works of James Russell Lowell: With IllustrationsHoughton, Mifflin, 1891 - 507 Seiten |
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Seite 4
... kind looks on the wound , If they be wounds which such sweet teach- ing makes , Giving itself a pang for others ' sakes ; No want of faith , that chills with side- long eye , Hath she ; no jealousy , no Levite pride That passeth by upon ...
... kind looks on the wound , If they be wounds which such sweet teach- ing makes , Giving itself a pang for others ' sakes ; No want of faith , that chills with side- long eye , Hath she ; no jealousy , no Levite pride That passeth by upon ...
Seite 5
... kind and good To me , since I've been in the wood ; Ye have gone nigh to fill my heart ; But good - bye , kind friends , every one , I've far to go ere set of sun ; Of all good things I would have part , The day was high ere I could ...
... kind and good To me , since I've been in the wood ; Ye have gone nigh to fill my heart ; But good - bye , kind friends , every one , I've far to go ere set of sun ; Of all good things I would have part , The day was high ere I could ...
Seite 16
... kind . " Forth into the night he hurled it , And with bitter smile did mark How the surly tempest whirled it Swift into the hungry dark . Foam and spray drive back to leeward , And the gale , with dreary moan , Drifts the helpless ...
... kind . " Forth into the night he hurled it , And with bitter smile did mark How the surly tempest whirled it Swift into the hungry dark . Foam and spray drive back to leeward , And the gale , with dreary moan , Drifts the helpless ...
Seite 18
... kind , Thou seemedst but to body A breath of summer wind . Into the eternal shadow That girds our life around , Into the infinite silence Wherewith Death's shore is bound , Thou hast gone forth , beloved ! And I were mean to weep , That ...
... kind , Thou seemedst but to body A breath of summer wind . Into the eternal shadow That girds our life around , Into the infinite silence Wherewith Death's shore is bound , Thou hast gone forth , beloved ! And I were mean to weep , That ...
Seite 24
... kind away , With Heaven's clear messages they madly strove , And conquered , - and their spirits turned to clay : Lo ! how they wander round the world , their grave , Whose ever - gaping maw by such is fed , Gibbering at living men ...
... kind away , With Heaven's clear messages they madly strove , And conquered , - and their spirits turned to clay : Lo ! how they wander round the world , their grave , Whose ever - gaping maw by such is fed , Gibbering at living men ...
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
afore agin ain't aint airth arter Auf wiedersehen beauty bein Ben Jonson Biglow bobolink brain Caleb Cushing Clotho dark dear deep divine doth dream ears earth England eyes faith fancy feel feller folks fust give God's gret hand hath hear heart heaven heerd hope idee Jaalam John ketch kind larn leaves letters light lives long ez look mind Muse nature neath never nigger night nothin o'er ollers once poet poor preterite rhyme round Sawin sech seemed silent sing Sir Launfal slavery song soul spiles spirit sunshine sure sweet tell thee there's thet thet's thine things thou thought thout thru tion tree truth turn twixt verse warn't Wilbur wind word wun't Yankee
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 69 - New occasions teach new duties ; Time makes ancient good uncouth; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth ; Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires! we ourselves must Pilgrims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key.
Seite 107 - The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world and she to her nest,— In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best?
Seite 107 - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays : Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
Seite 111 - As Sir Launfal mused with a downcast face, A light shone round about the place ; The leper no longer crouched at his side, But stood before him glorified, Shining and tall and fair and straight As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate, — Himself the Gate whereby men can Enter the temple of God in Man.
Seite 107 - The flush of life may well be seen Thrilling back over hills and valleys; The cowslip startles in meadows green, The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace...
Seite 68 - Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side...
Seite 109 - Down swept the chill wind from the mountain peak, From the snow five thousand summers old; On open wold and hilltop bleak It had gathered all the cold, And whirled it like sleet on the wanderer's cheek. It carried a shiver everywhere From the unleafed boughs and pastures bare; The little brook heard it and built a roof 'Neath which he could house him, winter-proof; All night by the white stars...
Seite 400 - Here was a type of the true elder race, And one of Plutarch's men talked with us face to face. I praise him not ; it were too late ; And some innative weakness there must be In him who condescends to victory Such as the Present gives, and cannot wait, Safe in himself as in a fate. So always firmly he : He knew to bide his time, And can his fame abide, Still patient in his simple faith sublime, Till the wise years decide.
Seite 111 - The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, In whatso we share with another's need; Not what we give, but what we share, ! For the gift without the giver is bare; Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.
Seite 110 - But the wind without was eager and sharp, Of Sir Launfal's gray hair it makes a harp, And rattles and wrings The icy strings, Singing, in dreary monotone, A Christmas carol of its own, Whose burden still, as he might guess, Was — "Shelterless, shelterless, shelterless!" The voice of the seneschal flared like a torch As he shouted the wanderer away from the porch, And he sat in the gateway and saw all night The great hall-fire, so cheery and bold, Through the window-slits of the castle old, Build...