The Poets of America: Illustrated by One of Her Painters...John Keese |
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Page 27
... pale is the moony beam , Moveless still the glassy stream , The wave is clear , the beach is bright With snowy shells and sparkling stones ; The shore - surge comes in ripples light , In murmurings faint and distant moans ; And ever ...
... pale is the moony beam , Moveless still the glassy stream , The wave is clear , the beach is bright With snowy shells and sparkling stones ; The shore - surge comes in ripples light , In murmurings faint and distant moans ; And ever ...
Page 32
... pale moonbeam , Like a feather that floats on a wind - tossed stream . And momently athwart her track The quarl upreared his island back , And the fluttering scallop behind would float , THE CULPRIT FAY . 33 And spatter the water about.
... pale moonbeam , Like a feather that floats on a wind - tossed stream . And momently athwart her track The quarl upreared his island back , And the fluttering scallop behind would float , THE CULPRIT FAY . 33 And spatter the water about.
Page 36
... pale , The lance - fly spreads his silken sail , And gleams with blendings soft and bright , Till lost in the shades of fading night ; So rose from earth the lovely Fay- So vanished , far in heaven away ! Up , Fairy ! quit thy chick ...
... pale , The lance - fly spreads his silken sail , And gleams with blendings soft and bright , Till lost in the shades of fading night ; So rose from earth the lovely Fay- So vanished , far in heaven away ! Up , Fairy ! quit thy chick ...
Page 45
... And now ' tis deadly pale ; And now ' t is wrapped in sulphur smoke , And quenched is its rayless beam , And now with a rattling thunder - stroke It bursts in flash and flame . 45 46 THE CULPRIT FAY . As swift as the glance.
... And now ' tis deadly pale ; And now ' t is wrapped in sulphur smoke , And quenched is its rayless beam , And now with a rattling thunder - stroke It bursts in flash and flame . 45 46 THE CULPRIT FAY . As swift as the glance.
Page 72
... pale and tender cheek ; And there are tones , that sweetly speak Of a spirit , who longs for a purer day , And is ready to wing her flight away . In the flush of youth and the spring of feeling , When life , like a sunny stream , is ...
... pale and tender cheek ; And there are tones , that sweetly speak Of a spirit , who longs for a purer day , And is ready to wing her flight away . In the flush of youth and the spring of feeling , When life , like a sunny stream , is ...
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Common terms and phrases
ALARIC ALNWICK CASTLE beam beauty bending beneath bird blue bosom bough bowers BOZZARIS breast breath breeze bright brow charm cheek cloud courser crimson CULPRIT FAY dark death deep dream earth echo elfin fading fair fairy float flowers forest gale gaze gems gentle glance gleam glorious glory glow golden Greece green grove hath hear heard heart heaven hills hour land leap light lonely lyre morning N. P. WILLIS night o'er old oaken bucket pale passed Pindus purple R. H. DANA rock rose round scene shade SHAKSPEARE ODE shine shore sigh silent moon silver sleep smile soft song soul sound spirit spring stars storm stream summer sweet swelling sylphs tear THANATOPSIS thee thine thou art thoughts throne tone tree Twas VISIGOTH VISIT FROM ST voice wandering water-sprites waters wave wild winds wing witch-hazel woods young
Popular passages
Page 75 - TO him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Page 59 - There is a power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Page 78 - Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those, who in their turn shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Page 136 - But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Like a staff, And a crook is in his back, And a melancholy crack In his laugh. I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here ; But the old three-cornered hat, And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer...
Page 77 - Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Page 104 - He was chubby and plump ; a right jolly old elf; And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings ; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle , But I heard him exclaim,...
Page 213 - Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? Alas ! they all are in their graves ; the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie ; but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy Dearth the lovely ones again.
Page 102 - Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there...
Page 104 - As I drew in my head and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot...
Page 49 - Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frighted waves rush wildly back Before the broadside's reeling rack, Each dying wanderer of the sea Shall look at once to heaven and thee, And smile to see thy splendors fly In triumph o'er his closing eye.