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angel appeared beauty birds blow born breath bright child cold comes dark dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair fall feel feet flowers give gold golden grow hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hold hope hour land leaves light lips literary lives look Miss morning mother Nature never night o'er once pain passed past peace poems poet poetry published rest rose round seems shadows shine silent sing sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit spring stand stars strong summer sweet tears tell tender thee things thou thought trees true turned verse voice warm watch waves weary wide wild wind wings wonder York young
Page 105 - TO HELEN. Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
Page 19 - O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain ! my Captain ! rise up and hear the bells ; Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle trills...
Page 87 - ... two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one.
Page 105 - Happy the man. whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound. Content to breathe his native air. In his own ground Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire. Whose trees in summer yield him shade. In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away, In health of body, peace of mind. Quiet by day. Sound sleep by night; study and ease. Together mixt: sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please With meditation.
Page 362 - WHICHEVER way the wind doth blow, Some heart is glad to have it so; Then blow it east or blow it west, The wind that blows, that wind is best.
Page 24 - AFOOT and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms, Strong and content I travel the open road.
Page 23 - I have said that the soul is not more than the body, 'And I have said that the body is not more than the soul, And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's" self is, And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud...
Page 60 - So farre, so fast the eygre drave. The heart had hardly time to beat, Before a shallow seething wave Sobbed in the grasses at oure feet: The feet had hardly time to flee Before it brake against the knee.