The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth LongfellowHoughton Mifflin and Company, 1886 - 1407 pages |
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Results 6-10 of 87
Page 12
... hour Should we exert that magic power , What ardor show , To deck the sensual slave of sin , Yet leave the freeborn soul within , In weeds of woe ! Monarchs , the powerful and the strong , Famous in history and in song Of olden time ...
... hour Should we exert that magic power , What ardor show , To deck the sensual slave of sin , Yet leave the freeborn soul within , In weeds of woe ! Monarchs , the powerful and the strong , Famous in history and in song Of olden time ...
Page 13
... royal court displayed Such power and pride ; The parting hour ? His other brothers , proud and high , Masters , who , in prosperity , Might rival kings ; Who made the bravest and the best The bondsmen of COPLAS DE MANRIQUE . 13.
... royal court displayed Such power and pride ; The parting hour ? His other brothers , proud and high , Masters , who , in prosperity , Might rival kings ; Who made the bravest and the best The bondsmen of COPLAS DE MANRIQUE . 13.
Page 14
... hour is when at last The soul is freed . Our days are covered o'er with grief , And sorrows neither few nor brief Veil all in gloom ; Left desolate of real good , Within this cheerless solitude No pleasures bloom . Thy pilgrimage begins ...
... hour is when at last The soul is freed . Our days are covered o'er with grief , And sorrows neither few nor brief Veil all in gloom ; Left desolate of real good , Within this cheerless solitude No pleasures bloom . Thy pilgrimage begins ...
Page 15
... hour , Brothers and bondsmen of his power His hand sustained . After high deeds , not left untold , In the stern warfare , which of old " T was his to share , Such noble leagues he made , that more And fairer regions , than before , His ...
... hour , Brothers and bondsmen of his power His hand sustained . After high deeds , not left untold , In the stern warfare , which of old " T was his to share , Such noble leagues he made , that more And fairer regions , than before , His ...
Page 20
... hour of sleep beguile ! when shall he , for whom I sigh in vain , Beside me watch to see thy waking smile ? THE GRAVE . FROM THE ANGLO - SAXON . FOR thee was a house built Ere thou wast born , For thee was a mould meant Ere thou of ...
... hour of sleep beguile ! when shall he , for whom I sigh in vain , Beside me watch to see thy waking smile ? THE GRAVE . FROM THE ANGLO - SAXON . FOR thee was a house built Ere thou wast born , For thee was a mould meant Ere thou of ...
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Common terms and phrases
Acadian answered beautiful behold beneath birds Bons amis breath brooklet Charlemagne Chispa cloud cried Dacotahs dark dead death door dreams earth EPIMETHEUS eyes face fair feet fire flowers forest gleam golden guests Gypsy hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha holy JULIA Kenabeek King Olaf land Lara Laughing Laughing Water leaves light listen living look loud maiden meadow MICHAEL ANGELO Miles Standish mist Mondamin moon morning never night Nokomis o'er Osseo PANDORA passed Pau-Puk-Keewis pray Prec river round rushing sails sang shadow shining ships Sigrid the Haughty silent singing sleep smile snow song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spake speak stars stood sunshine sweet tale Tharaw thee thine thou art thought unto Vict village VITTORIA VITTORIA COLONNA voice wait walls wampum wander whispered wigwam wild wind words youth
Popular passages
Page 26 - The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 26 - He goes on Sunday to the church, And sits among his boys ; He hears the parson pray and preach, He hears his daughter's voice, Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. 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...
Page 116 - We know what master laid thy keel; What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel; Who made each mast and sail and rope; What anvils rang, what hammers beat; In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope.
Page 226 - Lonely and spectral and sombre and still. And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height A glimmer, and then a gleam of light! He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight A second lamp in the belfry burns.
Page xi - Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act, — act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o'erhead! Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us, Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Page 20 - The breakers were right beneath her bows, She drifted a dreary wreck, And a whooping billow swept the crew Like icicles from her deck. She struck where the white and fleecy waves Looked soft as carded wool, But the cruel rocks, they gored her side Like the horns of an angry bull.
Page 30 - 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 225 - and with muffled oar Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, Just as the moon rose over the bay, Where swinging wide at her moorings lay The Somerset, British man-of-war ; A phantom ship, with each mast and spar Across the moon like a prison bar, And a huge black hulk, that was magnified By its own reflection in the. tide. Meanwhile...
Page 120 - She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule. In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead.
Page 69 - Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease ; And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say, " Peace ! " Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies ! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.