The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow |
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Page 54
... bosom , all transparent As the pure crystal , lets the curious eye Thy secrets scan , thy smooth , round pebbles count ! How , without malice murmuring , glides thy current ! O sweet simplicity of days gone by ! Thou shun'st the haunts ...
... bosom , all transparent As the pure crystal , lets the curious eye Thy secrets scan , thy smooth , round pebbles count ! How , without malice murmuring , glides thy current ! O sweet simplicity of days gone by ! Thou shun'st the haunts ...
Page 57
... while ; Thus in the bosom of a cloud of flowers , Which from those hands angelic were thrown up , And down descended inside and without 57 With crown of olive o'er a snow - white veil I BEATRICE From Dante Purgatorio, XXX XXXI.
... while ; Thus in the bosom of a cloud of flowers , Which from those hands angelic were thrown up , And down descended inside and without 57 With crown of olive o'er a snow - white veil I BEATRICE From Dante Purgatorio, XXX XXXI.
Page 62
... bosom , that thy lips have pressed ! Sleep , little one ; and closely , gently place Thy drowsy eyelid on thy mother's breast . Upon that tender eye , my little friend , Soft sleep shall come , that cometh not to me ! I watch to see ...
... bosom , that thy lips have pressed ! Sleep , little one ; and closely , gently place Thy drowsy eyelid on thy mother's breast . Upon that tender eye , my little friend , Soft sleep shall come , that cometh not to me ! I watch to see ...
Page 71
... bosom as white as snow , Take care ! She knows how much it is best to show , Beware ! Beware ! Trust her not , She is fooling thee ! She gives thee a garland woven fair , Take care ! It is a fool's - cap for thee to wear , Beware ...
... bosom as white as snow , Take care ! She knows how much it is best to show , Beware ! Beware ! Trust her not , She is fooling thee ! She gives thee a garland woven fair , Take care ! It is a fool's - cap for thee to wear , Beware ...
Page 79
... ; and in the shroud of the dead mother were laid the little garments of the child , that lived and died in her bosom . Near the church - yard gate stands THE CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S SUPPER From the Swedish of Bishop Tegnér.
... ; and in the shroud of the dead mother were laid the little garments of the child , that lived and died in her bosom . Near the church - yard gate stands THE CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S SUPPER From the Swedish of Bishop Tegnér.
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Common terms and phrases
Acadian angel answer arms beautiful behold BELFRY OF BRUGES beneath birds blossom bosom breath bride bright Bruges Captain clouds COPLAS DE MANRIQUE dark dead Death descended dost doth dream earth Evangeline eyes face fair father fear feet fire Flanders flowers forest GASPAR BECERRA gleam golden Grand-Pré grave Guy de Dampierre hand hast hear heard heart heaven holy HUMPHREY GILBERT John Alden JORGE MANRIQUE JULIUS MOSEN land laugh leaves light lips look LOPE DE VEGA loud maiden meadows Miles Standish mist morning night o'er ocean passed Plymouth prayer Priscilla restless heart river rose round sail Sandalphon sang shadow ships shore silent singing slumber smile snow soft song sorrow soul sound spake spirit stands stars stood strong sweet tears Tharaw thee thou thought toil unto Victor Galbraith village voice walls wander wave weary wild wind words youth
Popular passages
Page 273 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begun, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
Page 237 - Then the Master, With a gesture of command, Waved his hand; And at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard, All around them and below, The sound of hammers, blow on blow, Knocking away the shores and spurs. And see! she stirs! She starts,— she moves,— she seems to feel The thrill of life along her keel, And, spurning with her foot the ground, With one exulting, joyous bound, She leaps into the ocean's arms!
Page 246 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
Page 141 - 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.
Page 151 - 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.
Page 273 - THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary...
Page 366 - Strange to me now are the forms I meet When I visit the dear old town; But the native air is pure and sweet, And the trees that o'ershadow each...
Page 337 - We have not wings, we cannot soar ; But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, by more and more, The cloudy summits of our time.
Page 142 - Read from some humbler poet. Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start ; Who through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies.
Page 151 - I breathed a song into the air, I i. 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, SONNETS.