Kansas in Literature, Parts 1-2Crane, 1900 |
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Page 33
... eleven Free - State men by Pro - Slavery men under Charles A. Hamilton , at Trading Post , in Linn county , May 19th , 1858 . Wind slow from the Swan's Marsh , O dreary death 3- KANSAS IN LITERATURE 33 LE MARAIS DU CYGNE.1 ...
... eleven Free - State men by Pro - Slavery men under Charles A. Hamilton , at Trading Post , in Linn county , May 19th , 1858 . Wind slow from the Swan's Marsh , O dreary death 3- KANSAS IN LITERATURE 33 LE MARAIS DU CYGNE.1 ...
Page 34
William Herbert Carruth. Wind slow from the Swan's Marsh , O dreary death - train , With pressed lips as bloodless As lips of the slain ! Kiss down the young eyelids , Smooth down the gray hairs ; Let tears quench the curses That burn ...
William Herbert Carruth. Wind slow from the Swan's Marsh , O dreary death - train , With pressed lips as bloodless As lips of the slain ! Kiss down the young eyelids , Smooth down the gray hairs ; Let tears quench the curses That burn ...
Page 43
... winds kiss me , when an apple bough Laughs into blossom , or a buttercup Plays with the sunshine , or a violet Dances in the glad dew . Alas ! alas ! The meaning of the daisies in the grass I have forgotten ; and if my cheeks are wet ...
... winds kiss me , when an apple bough Laughs into blossom , or a buttercup Plays with the sunshine , or a violet Dances in the glad dew . Alas ! alas ! The meaning of the daisies in the grass I have forgotten ; and if my cheeks are wet ...
Page 45
... winds whose cadences Are unto thee those words repeating Which I must perish while secreting ! " I wove a wreath of ... wind and twist Through an aguish ocean of morning mist . From the low north bank to the southern ridge Runs a patent ...
... winds whose cadences Are unto thee those words repeating Which I must perish while secreting ! " I wove a wreath of ... wind and twist Through an aguish ocean of morning mist . From the low north bank to the southern ridge Runs a patent ...
Page 56
... The vestal autumn wandered musing by , Telling her beads with tears , and woe is me ! The maniac wind raves wild : I hear it sigh And mutter of my great calamity . Up , folded hands ! Rouse thee , O sleeping 56 TWENTIETH CENTURY CLASSICS.
... The vestal autumn wandered musing by , Telling her beads with tears , and woe is me ! The maniac wind raves wild : I hear it sigh And mutter of my great calamity . Up , folded hands ! Rouse thee , O sleeping 56 TWENTIETH CENTURY CLASSICS.
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Common terms and phrases
Advance Pub Agora Albert Bigelow Paine Allerton Andrew Downing Arthur Graves Canfield Bendena bird bless bloom blue Border Boston boys Campaign Charles Moreau Harger Che-wink Chicago Crane dead Dear Editor eyes fair flowers Fort Scott frost creeps G. P. Putnam's Sons gold good-night gray hand heart hills Hinton homes of Kansas homestead hope James John Brown KANSAS IN LITERATURE Kansas literature Kansas Magazine Kansas plains Kansas Pub land Lawrence literary Lucy Larcom McClurg morning never night Novel o'er pain Philadelphia plains A song Poems poet poetry port prairies Rhymes Richard Realf rose Santa Fe Trail save our town sing Sketches sleeping smile Snow soil song of liberty sorrow soul spring stars Story sweet Territory thee thou toil Topeka verse volumes walls of corn West Countrie William Herbert Carruth wind York
Popular passages
Page 28 - WE cross the prairie as of old The pilgrims crossed the sea, To make the West, as they the East, The homestead of the free...
Page 39 - Back of the canvas that throbs the painter is hinted and hidden; Into the statue that breathes the soul of the sculptor is bidden ; Under the joy that is felt lie the infinite issues of feeling; Crowning the glory revealed is the glory that crowns the revealing. Great are the symbols of being, but that which is...
Page 83 - EACH IN HIS OWN TONGUE A fire-mist and a planet, — A crystal and a cell, — A jelly-fish and a saurian, And caves where the cave-men dwell ; Then a sense of law and beauty, And a face turned from the clod, — Some call it Evolution, And others call it God. A haze on the far horizon, The infinite, tender sky, The ripe, rich tint of the cornfields, And the wild geese sailing high, — And all over upland and lowland The charm of the goldenrod, — Some of us call it Autumn, And others call it God.
Page 83 - Like tides on a crescent sea-beach When the moon is new and thin, Into our hearts high yearnings Come welling and surging in, — Come from the mystic ocean, Whose rim no foot has trod, — Some of us call it Longing, And others call it God.
Page 84 - A picket frozen on duty, A mother starved for her brood, Socrates drinking the hemlock, And Jesus on the rood; And millions, who, humble and nameless, The straight, hard pathway plod — Some call it Consecration, And others call it God.
Page 62 - Master of human destinies am I, Fame, love, and fortune on my footsteps wait. Cities and fields I walk : I penetrate Deserts and seas remote, and passing by Hovel, and mart, and palace — soon or late I knock unbidden once at every gate. If sleeping, wake — if feasting, rise before I turn away. It is the hour of fate, And they who follow me reach every state Mortals desire, and conquer every foe Save death : but those who doubt or hesitate, Condemned to failure, penury, and woe ; Seek me in vain...
Page 29 - Upbearing, like the Ark of old, The Bible in our van, We go to test the truth of God Against the fraud of man.
Page 33 - A BLUSH as of roses Where rose never grew ! Great drops on the bunch-grass, But not of the dew ! A taint in the sweet air For wild bees to shun ! A stain that shall never Bleach out in the sun...
Page 34 - Strong man of the prairies, Mourn bitter and wild ! Wail, desolate woman ! Weep, fatherless child ! But the grain of God springs up From ashes beneath, And the crown of his harvest Is life out of death.
Page 43 - Like desolation on a shipwrecked shore. There is no little child within me now, To sing back to the thrushes, to leap up When June winds kiss me, when an apple bough Laughs into blossoms, or a buttercup Plays with the sunshine, or a violet Dances in the glad dew. Alas ! alas ! The meaning of the daisies in the grass I have forgotten ; and if my cheeks are wet It is not with the blitheness of the child, But with the bitter sorrow of sad years.