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Page 172 - 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 rain.
Page 217 - Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range, Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
Page 216 - Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns.
Page 127 - How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
Page 344 - Such a spirit is Liberty. At times she takes the form of a hateful reptile. She grovels, she hisses, she stings. But woe to those who in disgust shall venture to crush her! And happy are those who, having dared to receive her in her degraded and frightful shape, shall at length be rewarded by her in the time of her beauty and her glory!
Page 291 - AY, tear her tattered ensign down ! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar; — The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck once red with heroes...
Page 216 - Or to burst all links of habit — there to wander far away, On from island unto island at the gateways of the day.
Page 399 - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand...