Poems

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1890 - 257 páginas
 

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Página 212 - Trojan fought that day. Mother Earth, are the heroes dead ? Do they thrill the soul of the years no more ? Are the gleaming snows and the poppies red All that is left of the brave of yore ? Are there none to fight as Theseus fought, Far in the young world's misty dawn ? Or to teach as gray-haired Nestor taught ? Mother Earth, are the heroes gone ? Gone ? In a grander form they rise.
Página 56 - And sunset died on the rippling sea, Ere to the south, with the wind, sailed he. But he told the story in London streets, And again to court and Prince and King ; "A truce," men cried, " to Virginia heats ; The North is the land of hope and spring...
Página 251 - Argives were celebrating a festival ofjuno, it was necessary that their mother should be drawn to the temple in a chariot; but the oxen did not come from the field in time, the young men therefore, being pressed for time, put themselves beneath the yoke, and drew the car in which their mother sat; and having conveyed it forty-five stades, they reached the temple.
Página 76 - Can stay its course, or still its song ; Ceaseless it flows till, round its bed, The vales of Henniker are spread, Their banks all set with golden grain, Or stately trees whose vistas gleam — A double forest — in the stream ; And, winding 'neath the pine-crowned hill That overhangs the village plain, By sunny reaches, broad and still, It nears the bridge that spans its tide — The bridge whose arches low and wide It ripples through — and should you lean A moment there, no lovelier scene On...
Página 147 - This is the summer's burial-time: She died when dropped the earliest leaves; And, cold upon her rosy prime, Fell direful autumn's frosty rime; Yet I am not as one that grieves, — For well I know o'er sunny seas The bluebird waits for April skies; And at the roots of forest trees The May-flowers sleep in fragrant ease...
Página 249 - O prairies! Snowy and golden and red ; Peers of the Palestine lilies Heap for your glorious dead! Roses as fair as of Sharon, Branches as stately as palm, Odors as rich as the spices — Cassia and aloes and balm — Mary the loved and Salome, All with a gracious accord, Ere the first glow of the morning Brought to the tomb of the Lord...
Página 51 - The surging tides of ocean pour. And past the towers the white gulls soar, And winds the sea-clouds bear. O peerless this majestic street. This road that leaps the brine! Upon its heights twin cities meet. And throng its grand incline, — To east, to west, with swiftest feet. Though ice may crash and billows beat. Though blinding fogs the wave may greet Or golden summer shine. Sail up the Bay with morning's beam, Or rocky Hellgate by, — Its columns rise, its cables gleam, Great tents athwart the...
Página 125 - Tis true his stone is graven fair, " Here lies, remote from mortal care ; " I can not tell how both may be, But well I know he talked with me. 12. And oft, when other fires are low, I sit within that midnight glow — My head upon his shoulder leant, His tender glances downward bent, And win the dream to sweet delay Till stars and shadows yield to day.
Página 72 - The pines that hear the north wind roar, The dark and tapering firs ; Nor Argonaut nor Viking knew Sublimer daring than her crew. And long as Freedom fires the soul Or mountains pierce the air, Her fame shall shine on honor's scroll ; Thy brow shall be the pilgrim's goal Uplifted broad and fair ; And from thy skies inspiring gales O'er future seas shall sweep our sails. Still summer keep thy pastures green, And clothe thy oaks and pines ; Brooks laugh thy rifted rocks between ; Snows fall serenely...
Página 188 - O THE splendor of the city, When the sun is in the west! Ruddy gold on spire and belfry, Gold on Moskwa's placid breast; Till the twilight soft and sombre Falls on wall and street and square, And the domes and towers in shadow Stand like silent monks at prayer.

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