A Selection from the Works of Henry Wadsworth LongfellowWard, Lock & Bowden, Limited, 1889 - 220 pages |
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Page 2
... bosoms . Loud from its rocky caverns , the deep - voiced neigh- bouring ocean Speaks , and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest . This is the forest primeval ; but where are the hearts that beneath it Leaped like the ...
... bosoms . Loud from its rocky caverns , the deep - voiced neigh- bouring ocean Speaks , and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest . This is the forest primeval ; but where are the hearts that beneath it Leaped like the ...
Page 14
... bosom . But with a smile and a sigh , she clasped his neck and embraced him , Speaking words of endearment where words of com- fort availed not . Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mournful procession . There disorder prevailed ...
... bosom . But with a smile and a sigh , she clasped his neck and embraced him , Speaking words of endearment where words of com- fort availed not . Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mournful procession . There disorder prevailed ...
Page 15
... bosom He was already at rest , and she longed to slumber beside him . Sometimes a rumour , a hearsay , an inarticulate whisper , Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her forward . * * * * * Then would they say , " Dear child ...
... bosom He was already at rest , and she longed to slumber beside him . Sometimes a rumour , a hearsay , an inarticulate whisper , Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her forward . * * * * * Then would they say , " Dear child ...
Page 22
... kneeling beside him , Kissed his dying lips , and laid his head on her bosom . Sweet was the light of his eyes ; but it suddenly sank into darkness , As when a lamp is blown out by a gust 22 A SELECTION FROM THE WORKS OF.
... kneeling beside him , Kissed his dying lips , and laid his head on her bosom . Sweet was the light of his eyes ; but it suddenly sank into darkness , As when a lamp is blown out by a gust 22 A SELECTION FROM THE WORKS OF.
Page 23
... bosom , Meekly she bowed her own , and murmured , " Father , I thank thee ! " FROM " THE GOLDEN LEGEND . " The Legenda Aurea , or Golden Legend , was originally written in Latin in the thirteenth century by Jacobus de Voragine , a ...
... bosom , Meekly she bowed her own , and murmured , " Father , I thank thee ! " FROM " THE GOLDEN LEGEND . " The Legenda Aurea , or Golden Legend , was originally written in Latin in the thirteenth century by Jacobus de Voragine , a ...
Common terms and phrases
Acadian Albrecht Dürer ancient Angel banner beautiful beheld BELFRY OF BRUGES bell BELL OF ATRI beneath Beware birds bosom breath brooklet Captain castle cried dark dead death descended door doth dream dust Enceladus Evangeline Excelsior eyes fair father feet flowers Forever-never GERMAN golden Golden Legend grave hand hast hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha holy John Alden JORGE MANRIQUE Julius Cæsar King labour land Laughing legends light lips living Longfellow look Lord loud Luck of Edenhall maiden meadow merry Miles Standish Minnesinger mists moon morning mortal Mudjekeewis Never-forever night Nokomis o'er passed poem poet prayer Priscilla rose sail Saint Sandalphon sang shadow ship shore silent singing Sister of Mercy sleep slumbered song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spake stands steed stood thee thine thou thought toil unto village voice wait wave Wenonah Whispered wind words youth
Popular passages
Page 78 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Page 141 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.
Page 99 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
Page 70 - THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between.
Page 214 - Last night the moon had a golden ring, And to-night no moon we see! " The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, And a scornful laugh laughed he.
Page 87 - Sail forth into the sea of life, O gentle, loving, trusting wife, And safe from all adversity Upon the bosom of that sea Thy comings and thy goings be! For gentleness and love and trust Prevail o'er angry wave and gust; And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives!
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,
Page 88 - Tis of the wave and not the rock ; ,Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar. In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee...
Page 102 - In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; Above, the spectral glaciers shone, And from his lips escaped a groan, Excelsior! "Try not the pass!
Page 7 - Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside, Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses!