Poems of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Crowell, 1901 - 371页
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With biographical sketch by Nathan Haskell Dole. Notes on poems.
 

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第127页 - T is 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...
第127页 - 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! 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!
第3页 - 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,
第102页 - Is it, O man, with such discordant noises, With such accursed instruments as these, Thou drownest Nature's sweet and kindly voices. And jarrest the celestial harmonies? Were half the power, that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth, bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts: The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
第148页 - The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night.
第3页 - Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums are beating Funeral marches to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife ! 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...
第116页 - Forever — never ! Never — forever ! " All are scattered now and fled, Some are married, some are dead ; And when I ask, with throbs of pain, " Ah ! when shall they all meet again ? '" As in the days long since gone by, The ancient timepiece makes reply, — " Forever — never ! Never — forever...
第50页 - UNDER a spreading chestnut tree 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.
第5页 - FLOWERS. SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
第132页 - THE BUILDERS. ALL are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time : Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low ; Each thing in its place is best ; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest.

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