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alliteration American ballad beauty blank verse Browning called Carl Sandburg century chapter dark dead death deep dream earth England English expressed eyes face fair feet fields flowers free verse give hand head hear heard heart heaven hills iambic Italy John King known lady land language leaves less light lines living look Lord lyric Masters means meter nature never night o'er once pass perhaps poems poetic poetry poets popular quote rest rime Ring rose seems short sing sleep song sonnet soul sound stanza stars sweet syllables tell Tennyson thee things thou thought trees trochaic true turn voice wild William Ernest Henley wind Wordsworth write written wrote young
Page 91 - Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.
Page 419 - But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world. Ah, love, let us be true To one another ! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain ; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant...
Page 70 - She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes:''* Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Page 419 - Listen! you hear the grating roar Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling At their return, up the high strand, Begin, and cease, and then again begin, With tremulous cadence slow, and bring The eternal note of sadness in.
Page 48 - 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 207 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide. To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Page 44 - My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love! I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills, My heart with rapture thrills Like that above!
Page 271 - Homer ruled as his demesne ; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold : Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Page 56 - By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world. The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And Time the ruined bridge has swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. On this green bank, by this soft stream, We set today a votive stone; That memory may their deed redeem, When, like our sires, our sons are gone. Spirit, that made those heroes dare To die,...
Page 98 - Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.