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American Poems. Longfellow: Whittier: Bryant: Holmes: Lowell: Emerson;
Horace Elisha Scudder
No preview available - 2016
American Poems - Longfellow - Whittier - Bryant - Holmes - Lowell - Emerson ...
Horace Elisha Scudder
No preview available - 2011
Acadian Annapolis River beauty behold beneath bobolink breath Captain cheer cloud dark door dream earth England Evangeline eyes face fair father feet fire flowers forest Gabriel gleamed glow golden grave gray hand Harvard College head heard heart heaven hexameter hills Holy Grail human Indian John Alden Jotun land lapstone laugh light lips living look Lord loud maiden Mayflower meadows Miles Standish mingled morning mountain murmur nature neath never night Nova Scotia o'er ocean passed paused Phillips Academy Plymouth poems poet poetry prayer Priscilla Puritan river rock rose round sail Samuel Sewall seemed Sella shade shadow ship shore silent Sir Launfal smile snow song sorrow soul sound spake stood story stream strong summer sunshine sweet thee thou thought tree village voice wall wandered wind winter Witch's Daughter woods words youth
Page 12 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Page 354 - 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...
Page 17 - Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with snow-flakes; White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as brown as the oak-leaves.
Page 187 - Tis of the wave and not the rock; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore. Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.
Page 15 - West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain ; and away to the northward Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended.
Page 18 - Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as an heirloom, Handed down from mother to child, through long generations. But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after confession, Homeward serenely she walked with God's benediction upon her. When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.
Page 187 - Workman wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Page 192 - Littered the stalls, and from the mows Raked down the herd's-grass for the cows ; Heard the horse whinnying for his corn ; And, sharply clashing horn on horn, Impatient down the stanchion rows The cattle shake their walnut bows...
Page 196 - The house-dog on his paws outspread Laid to the fire his drowsy head, The cat's dark silhouette on the wall A couchant tiger's seemed to fall; And, for the winter fireside meet, Between the andirons...
Page 17 - Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the village Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending, Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and contentment. Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers, — Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free from Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of republics.