Selections from the Poetical Literature of the WestU.P. James, 1841 - 264 pages |
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ALBERT PIKE amid AUTUMN MUSINGS beam beautiful bend beneath thy bird blest bloom blue bosom breast breath breeze bright brow burning CAROLINE LEE HENTZ cheek clime clouds dark dark funeral death deep dreams E'en earth eternal faded fair faith dawns feel flashing flowers flowers of Eden forest forever GALLAGHER gaze gentle gloom glorious glory glow gone green hath heart heaven hills holy JAMES H King of Day land LEWIS F Life's light lone melody memory morning mountain neath night o'er ocean OTWAY CURRY rest rills rock roll round shade shining shore sigh silent skies sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit stars storm stream sweet tear tempest thee thine THOMAS H thou art thou hast thought throne tomb tone tree vale voice wandering waves weary wild wilderness WILLIAM D wind wing
Popular passages
Page 26 - Remorseless Time ! — Fierce spirit of the glass and scythe ! what power Can stay him in his silent course, or melt His iron heart to pity ? On, still on He presses and forever.
Page 54 - But cheered their husbands through the day, And soothed them through the night. The mothers of our forest-land ! Their bosoms pillowed men ! And proud were they by such to stand, In hammock, fort, or glen, To load the sure old rifle — To run the leaden ball — • To watch a battling husband's place, And fill it, should he fall...
Page 236 - tis but dust! Nor place, uncertain as the wind! But that thou hast which, with thy crust And water, may despise the lust Of both — a noble mind. With this, and passions under ban, True faith, and holy trust in God, Thou art the peer of any man. Look up, then — that thy little span Of life may be well trod!
Page 148 - Faster, along the plain, Moves now the shade, and on the meadow's edge : The kine are forth again, The bird flits in the hedge. Now in the molten west sinks the hot sun. Welcome, mild eve ! the sultry day is done. Pleasantly...
Page 24 - Tis midnight's holy hour — and silence now Is brooding like a gentle Spirit o'er The still and pulseless world.
Page 57 - I COULD have stemmed misfortune's tide, And borne the rich one's sneer, Have braved the haughty glance of pride, Nor shed a single tear. I could have smiled on every blow From life's full quiver thrown, While I might gaze on thee, and know I should not be
Page 59 - The broad, the bright, the glorious West, Is spread before me now ! Where the gray mists of morning rest Beneath yon mountain's brow ! The bound is past, the goal is won ; The region of the setting sun Is open to my view : Land of the valiant and the free — My own Green Mountain land — to thee, And thine, a long adieu ! I hail thee, Valley of the West, For what thou yet...
Page 74 - It is a beautiful belief, That ever round our head Are hovering, on angel wings, The spirits of the dead.
Page 102 - ... home would seem As lovely as of yore ! I wonder if the mountain stream Goes singing by the door ! And if the flowers still bloom as fair, And if the woodbines climb, As when I used to train them there, In the dear olden time ! I wonder if the birds still sing Upon the garden tree, As sweetly as in that sweet spring Whose golden memories gently bring So many dreams to me ! I know that there hath been a change, A change o'er hall and hearth !' Faces and footsteps new and strange, About my place...
Page 51 - But -griefs are deeper traced than they. We laid her in her narrow cell, We heaped the soft mould on her breast; And parting tears, like rain-drops, fell Upon her lonely place of rest.