A New Library of Poetry and Song, Volume 2William Cullen Bryant J. B. Ford, 1877 - 934 pages |
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Results 1-5 of 87
Page 469
... blue aboon a ' , An ' whiddie , whuddie , whaddie , gang the auld wheels twa . I sit on the coop , I look straight before , But my heart it is awa ' the braid ocean owre , by CHARLES T. BROOKS . I see the bluidy fiel ' where my ain ...
... blue aboon a ' , An ' whiddie , whuddie , whaddie , gang the auld wheels twa . I sit on the coop , I look straight before , But my heart it is awa ' the braid ocean owre , by CHARLES T. BROOKS . I see the bluidy fiel ' where my ain ...
Page 477
... blue Rhine sweep along , - I heard , old in wars , or seemed to hear , The death - wound on their gallant breasts , the The German songs we used to sing , in chorus last of many scars ; sweet and clear ; And some were young , and ...
... blue Rhine sweep along , - I heard , old in wars , or seemed to hear , The death - wound on their gallant breasts , the The German songs we used to sing , in chorus last of many scars ; sweet and clear ; And some were young , and ...
Page 481
... blue - eyed maid And stooping to the child , the old man said , " Come hither , Nancy , kiss me once again ; This is your uncle Charles , come home from Spain . " ; The child approached , and with her fingers light Stroked my old eyes ...
... blue - eyed maid And stooping to the child , the old man said , " Come hither , Nancy , kiss me once again ; This is your uncle Charles , come home from Spain . " ; The child approached , and with her fingers light Stroked my old eyes ...
Page 482
... blue ; And worn and pale , from the crisping hair , Looked out a face that the father knew . For Southern prisons will sometimes yawn , And yield their dead unto life again ; And the day that comes with a cloudy dawn In golden glory at ...
... blue ; And worn and pale , from the crisping hair , Looked out a face that the father knew . For Southern prisons will sometimes yawn , And yield their dead unto life again ; And the day that comes with a cloudy dawn In golden glory at ...
Page 483
... BLUE AND THE GRAY . [ The women of Columbus , Mississippi , strewed flowers alike on the graves of the Confederate and the National soldiers . ] By the flow of the inland river , Whence the fleets of iron have fled , Where the blades of ...
... BLUE AND THE GRAY . [ The women of Columbus , Mississippi , strewed flowers alike on the graves of the Confederate and the National soldiers . ] By the flow of the inland river , Whence the fleets of iron have fled , Where the blades of ...
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Common terms and phrases
arms beauty bells beneath blessed blood blow blue brave breast breath bright cold comes cried dark dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair fall fear feel fell field fire flowers give gold grave green hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hour Italy JOHN king land leaves light live look Lord mind morning never night o'er once pass peace poor rest rise rock rolled rose round seemed seen shore side sing sleep smile song soul sound spirit stand stars stood stream strong sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand Till true turned voice wave wild wind wings wonder young
Popular passages
Page 626 - Earth has not anything to show more fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers,, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Page 815 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Page 556 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.
Page 783 - Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water everywhere Nor any drop to drink.
Page 709 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow, Through the sweet-brier, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
Page 461 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet — But hark!
Page 818 - Peace to all such! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires; Blest with each talent, and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease; Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
Page 723 - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Page 709 - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful jollity, Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek : Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go, On the light fantastic toe...
Page 657 - Hear the tolling of the bells Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people - ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling...