The poetical works of H.W. Longfellow |
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Page 7
... leaves , when the mighty blasts of October Seize them , and whirl them aloft , and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean . Nought 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 . Nought but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand - Pré . Ye who believe in affection that hopes , and ...
Page 9
... leaves . Fair was she to behold , that maiden of seventeen summers . Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the way - side , Black , yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses ! Sweet was her ...
... leaves . Fair was she to behold , that maiden of seventeen summers . Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the way - side , Black , yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses ! Sweet was her ...
Page 16
... 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 . Gaily 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 . Gaily the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his ...
Page 18
... 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 ...
Page 24
... leaves of the shrinking mimosa , So , at the hoof - beats of fate , with sad forebodings of evil , Shrinks and closes the heart , ere the stroke of doom has attained it . But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision , that faintly ...
... leaves of the shrinking mimosa , So , at the hoof - beats of fate , with sad forebodings of evil , Shrinks and closes the heart , ere the stroke of doom has attained it . But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision , that faintly ...
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Common terms and phrases
Acadian Albrecht Dürer angel art thou BARTOLOME beautiful behold beneath birds bosom breath bride bright brooklet cachucha child CHISPA clouds Count of Lara CRUZADO dance dark dead death DON CARLOS Don Dinero Dost thou doth dream earth Edenhall eyes fair father fear flowers FRANCISCO gentle Gipsy girl gleam gold golden grave Guy de Dampierre hand hear heard heart heaven holy HYPOLITO Jorge Manrique JULIUS MOSEN land leaves light lips look loud maiden merry midnight moon morning night Nils Juel o'er PADRE CURA pass Pray prayer PRECIOSA rain ring rise river round sail Saint sang SCENE shadows shalt ships silent silver singing sleep slumbered smile soft song sorrow soul sound stands stars stood sweet tears Tharaw thee thine thou art thou hast thought Timoneda unto VICTORIAN village voice wander wave weary wild wind window youth
Popular passages
Page 64 - There is no Death ! What seems so is transition. This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Page 115 - THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior...
Page 83 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an Eagle in his flight. 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 7 - 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 99 - Like the horns of an angry bull. Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, With the masts went by the board; Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank, Ho! ho! the breakers roared! At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, A fisherman stood aghast, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lashed close to a drifting mast. The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes; And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, On the billows fall and rise. Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight...
Page 57 - 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 th.ee.
Page 57 - Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate...
Page 42 - WHEN the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight; Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fire-light Dance upon the parlor wall; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more...
Page 97 - Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the Northeast; The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast. Down came the storm, and smote amain, The vessel in its strength; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cable's length. "Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale, That ever wind did blow.
Page 94 - Oft to his frozen lair Tracked I the grisly bear, While from my path the hare Fled like a shadow; Oft through the forest dark Followed the were-wolf's bark, Until the soaring lark Sang from the meadow. "But when I older grew, Joining a corsair's crew, O'er the dark sea I flew With the marauders. Wild was the life we led, Many the souls that sped, Many the hearts that bled, By our stern orders.