Poems. New, complete ed |
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Page 3
... leaves , when the mighty blasts of October Seize them , and whirl them aloft , and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean . Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand - Pré . Ye who believe in affection that hopes , and ...
... leaves , when the mighty blasts of October Seize them , and whirl them aloft , and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean . Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand - Pré . Ye who believe in affection that hopes , and ...
Page 6
... winters ; 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 . Fair was she to behold , that maiden of seventeen 6 EVANGELINE .
... winters ; 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 . Fair was she to behold , that maiden of seventeen 6 EVANGELINE .
Page 20
... leaves alternately played on his snow- white Hair , as it waved in the wind ; and the jolly face of the fiddler Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the embers . Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his ...
... leaves alternately played on his snow- white Hair , as it waved in the wind ; and the jolly face of the fiddler Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the embers . Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his ...
Page 21
... leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest . Then came the guard from the ships , and marching proudly among them Entered the sacred portal . With loud and dissonant clangor Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and case ...
... leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest . Then came the guard from the ships , and marching proudly among them Entered the sacred portal . With loud and dissonant clangor Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and case ...
Page 25
... leaves of the sycamore - tree by the window . Keenly the lightning flashed ; and the voice of the echoing thunder Told her that God was in heaven , and governed the world he created ! Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the ...
... leaves of the sycamore - tree by the window . Keenly the lightning flashed ; and the voice of the echoing thunder Told her that God was in heaven , and governed the world he created ! Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the ...
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Common terms and phrases
Acadian angels answer arrows beautiful behold BELFRY OF BRUGES bell beneath birds blessed bosom breath bright Chibiabos Chispa clouds Dacotahs dance dark dead death dream earth Edenhall Elsie Evangeline eyes face father fear flowers forest Friar Gipsy gleam golden grave Guy de Dampierre hand hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha holy John Alden Kenabeek Kwasind land Lara Laughing Water light lips look loud Lucifer maiden meadow Miles Standish Minnehaha Mondamin moon morning night o'er old Nokomis Osseo Padre pass Pau-Puk-Keewis Pray prayer Prec Preciosa Prince Henry rise river rose round sail sang shadow shining silent singing sleep smile song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spake spirit stand Standish stars stood sunshine sweet Tharaw thee thou art thought unto Vict village voice wampum wandered waves weary whispered wigwam wild wind words youth
Popular passages
Page 209 - Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease ; And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say, "Peace !" Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies ! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.
Page 68 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled...
Page 169 - Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low.
Page 145 - Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May. The skipper he stood beside the helm, His pipe was in his mouth, And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now West, now South. Then up and spake an old Sailor, Had sailed the Spanish Main, "I pray thee, put into yonder port, For I fear a hurricane. "Last night, the moon had a golden ring, And to-night no moon we see!
Page 235 - And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That, follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Page 147 - And ever the fitful gusts between A sound came from the land ; It was the sound of the trampling surf, On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.
Page 3 - 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 255 - THOUGH the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small ; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
Page 287 - THE BUILDERS. ALL are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time : Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low ; Each thing in its place is best ; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest.
Page 777 - A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I remember the sea-fight far away, How it thundered o'er the tide, And the dead captains, as they lay In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay, Where they in battle died. And the sound of that mournful song Goes through me with a thrill : " A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.