Representative Poems of Living Poets: American and English

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Jeannette Leonard Gilder
Cassell, 1886 - 683页

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第421页 - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays: Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, grasping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
第325页 - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main; The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming Lair.
第421页 - New occasions teach new duties ; Time makes ancient good uncouth ; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth ; Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires ! we ourselves must Pilgrims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key.
第28页 - And anon there breaks a sigh, And anon there drops a tear, From a sorrow-clouded eye, And a heart sorrow-laden, A long, long sigh; For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden And the gleam of her golden hair. Come away, away children; Come children, come down! The hoarse wind blows coldly; Lights shine in the town.
第25页 - Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away. This way, this way. Call her once before you go. Call once yet. In a voice that she will know : "Margaret! Margaret!
第423页 - Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown An' peeked in thru' the winder, An' there sot Huldy all alone, 'Ith no one nigh to hender. A fireplace filled the room's one side With half a cord o' wood in — There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin'.
第90页 - And I know not if, save in this, such gift be allowed to man, That out of three sounds he frame, not a fourth sound, but a star.
第610页 - And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side ; But Sir Richard cried in his English pride, ' We have fought such a fight for a day and a night As may never be fought again! We have won great glory, my men ! And a day less or more At sea or ashore, We die — does it matter when?
第328页 - Ay, tear her tattered ensign down ! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar; — The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes...
第326页 - Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap forlorn! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn! While on mine ear it rings, Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings: Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving...

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