School-room Poetry1860 |
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Page xi
... Night before the Battle of Waterloo Byron • The Old familiar strain 122 The Open Window The Pic Nic Byron . Mackenzie Longfellow Heinrich Voss 115 125 192 158 The Poor Man Speaketh About Trees Verses by a Poor Man 165 The Primrose • The ...
... Night before the Battle of Waterloo Byron • The Old familiar strain 122 The Open Window The Pic Nic Byron . Mackenzie Longfellow Heinrich Voss 115 125 192 158 The Poor Man Speaketh About Trees Verses by a Poor Man 165 The Primrose • The ...
Page 1
... night are gone , And lo ! in the east , day's golden car Is filled by the glorious sun . And hark ! for a thousand voices call , The spirits of life and love : Attune your hymns to the Father of All-- The Sovereign who reigns above ...
... night are gone , And lo ! in the east , day's golden car Is filled by the glorious sun . And hark ! for a thousand voices call , The spirits of life and love : Attune your hymns to the Father of All-- The Sovereign who reigns above ...
Page 4
... us , In the dim night , Are they not angel - like , Holy and bright- Sanctified - purified Unto us now , With a heaven - garland Encircling each brow ? Turn to the living ones There as they stand , SCHOOL - ROOM POETRY .
... us , In the dim night , Are they not angel - like , Holy and bright- Sanctified - purified Unto us now , With a heaven - garland Encircling each brow ? Turn to the living ones There as they stand , SCHOOL - ROOM POETRY .
Page 6
... night , Watchman ? What of the night ? Cloudy , all quiet : No land yet - all's right ! Be wakeful , be vigilant , Danger may be At an hour when all seemeth Securest to thee . How gains the bark so fast ? Clear out the 6 SCHOOL - ROOM ...
... night , Watchman ? What of the night ? Cloudy , all quiet : No land yet - all's right ! Be wakeful , be vigilant , Danger may be At an hour when all seemeth Securest to thee . How gains the bark so fast ? Clear out the 6 SCHOOL - ROOM ...
Page 12
... night , From every source your sanction bids me treasure Harmless delight . Ephemeral sages ! what instructors hoary For such a world of thought could furnish scope ? Each fading calyx a memento mori , Yet fount of hope . Posthumous ...
... night , From every source your sanction bids me treasure Harmless delight . Ephemeral sages ! what instructors hoary For such a world of thought could furnish scope ? Each fading calyx a memento mori , Yet fount of hope . Posthumous ...
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Common terms and phrases
Anon beauty beneath billows bird blessed bliss bloom blue bosom boughs bowers breast breathe breeze bright brow child chimes cloud dark dead death deep delight dost doth dream earth Eliza Cook eyes fair fair band fancy crown father Ferdinand Freiligrath flowers forest gentle glory grave green green days grey grief hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven hour land Last eve leaves light lone look mirth morn mother mountain Muça neath nest night nursling o'er pale pass rest rill rose round shade shining sigh silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring star of Bethlehem stars storm strain stream sweet sweet flags sweet sacrifice tears tell temple of tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thought thundering bands tree voice wandering waves weary weep wild wind wings wood youth
Popular passages
Page 123 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which, but an hour ago, Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness ; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated : Who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since, upon night so sweet, such awful morn could rise. And there was mounting in hot haste : the steed, The mustering squadron,...
Page 196 - 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 ! Let us be patient!
Page 117 - And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
Page 154 - Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer ; And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, Like a swarm of golden bees, When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas, Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, Are each paved with the moon and these.
Page 145 - THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. WHEN marshal'd on the nightly plain, The glittering host bestud the sky ; One star alone, of all the train, Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. Hark ! hark ! to God the chorus breaks, From every host, from every gem ; But one alone the Saviour speaks, It is the Star of Bethlehem.
Page 247 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Page 152 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Page 45 - And children coming home from school, Look in at the open door ; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
Page 120 - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge...
Page 159 - To BLOSSOMS FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awhile To blush and gently smile, And go at last.