A New Library of Poetry and Song, Volume 2William Cullen Bryant J. B. Ford, 1877 - 934 pages |
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Page 452
... streaming ? O'er the ramparts And the rocket's red glave - the bomb . in air Game proof through the night that bursting will there ? I say ! шале Jaz , dass that star . op angled banner get w Over the law of the free < the home of the ...
... streaming ? O'er the ramparts And the rocket's red glave - the bomb . in air Game proof through the night that bursting will there ? I say ! шале Jaz , dass that star . op angled banner get w Over the law of the free < the home of the ...
Page 454
... stream , divides Shall blind him , wandering in the vale of years , Their perfect ranks ; for high above the ground Stain of his breed ! dishonoring manhood's form , All ills shall cleave to him : - Affliction's storm - Till , lost to ...
... stream , divides Shall blind him , wandering in the vale of years , Their perfect ranks ; for high above the ground Stain of his breed ! dishonoring manhood's form , All ills shall cleave to him : - Affliction's storm - Till , lost to ...
Page 476
... stream of my life - blood staining the To the hefty clover . Hark ! the reveille sounding out on the morning air ; Devils are we for the battle- Will there be an- gels there ? Kiss me again , Sweet Brier , the touch of your lip to mine ...
... stream of my life - blood staining the To the hefty clover . Hark ! the reveille sounding out on the morning air ; Devils are we for the battle- Will there be an- gels there ? Kiss me again , Sweet Brier , the touch of your lip to mine ...
Page 485
... stream that bounds your just do- main , And tells you where ye have a right to reign , A nation dwells , not envious of your throne , Studious of peace , their neighbors ' , and their own . Ill - fated race ! how deeply must they rue ...
... stream that bounds your just do- main , And tells you where ye have a right to reign , A nation dwells , not envious of your throne , Studious of peace , their neighbors ' , and their own . Ill - fated race ! how deeply must they rue ...
Page 489
... said , " quoth he , " That ' t was a famous victory . " My father lived at Blenheim then , Yon little stream hard by ; They burnt his dwelling to the ground , And he PEACE . 489 And he lifted high his brawny hand ...
... said , " quoth he , " That ' t was a famous victory . " My father lived at Blenheim then , Yon little stream hard by ; They burnt his dwelling to the ground , And he PEACE . 489 And he lifted high his brawny hand ...
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Common terms and phrases
arms beauty bells beneath blessed blood blow blue brave breast breath bright cold comes cried dark dead dear death deep dream earth eyes face fair fall fear feel fell field fire flowers give gold grave green hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hour Italy JOHN king land leaves light live look Lord mind morning never night o'er once pass peace poor rest rise rock rolled rose round seemed seen shore side sing sleep smile song soul sound spirit stand stars stood stream strong sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand Till true turned voice wave wild wind wings wonder young
Popular passages
Page 626 - Earth has not anything to show more fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers,, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Page 815 - MILTON ! thou should'st be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Page 556 - 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 783 - Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water everywhere Nor any drop to drink.
Page 709 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise; Then to come, in spite of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow, Through the sweet-brier, or the vine, Or the twisted eglantine...
Page 461 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet — But hark!
Page 818 - Peace to all such! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires; Blest with each talent, and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease; Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
Page 723 - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Page 709 - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful jollity, Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek : Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go, On the light fantastic toe...
Page 657 - Hear the tolling of the bells Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people - ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling...