A Geographical Reader

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James Johonnot
D. Appleton and Company, 1882 - 418 páginas
 

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Página 72 - The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Página 73 - Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, This pilot is guiding me, Lured by the love of the genii that move In the depths of the purple sea Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills.
Página 12 - Thy habitation from eternity ! 0 dread and silent Mount ! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought: entranced in prayer 1 worshipped the Invisible alone. Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, So sweet, we know not we are listening to it...
Página 13 - Ye ice-falls ! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain— Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge ! Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon ? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows ? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet ?— God...
Página 72 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Página 14 - Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, GOD!
Página 14 - Thou too, hoar Mount! with thy sky-pointing peaks, Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene Into the depth of clouds, that veil thy breast — Thou too again, stupendous Mountain!
Página 11 - Hast thou a charm to stay the morning-star In his steep course? So long he seems to pause On thy bald awful head, O sovran Blanc! The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful Form! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity!
Página 74 - I hang like a roof, The mountains its columns be. The triumphal arch through which I march With hurricane, fire, and snow...
Página 13 - Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my Hymn. Thou first and chief, sole Sovereign of the Vale! O, struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink...

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