The Poets of Connecticut: With Biographical SketchesCharles William Everest |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 67
Page 41
... fire , he lifts his hand O'er the deep host in dim array ; And awed by Heaven's supreme command , Pours forth the rapture of the living lay . III . Fair , oh Israel , are thy tents , Blest the banners of thy fame ; Blest the dwellings ...
... fire , he lifts his hand O'er the deep host in dim array ; And awed by Heaven's supreme command , Pours forth the rapture of the living lay . III . Fair , oh Israel , are thy tents , Blest the banners of thy fame ; Blest the dwellings ...
Page 42
... Fires the east with crimson day , Awful o'er his foes impending , Pours wide the lightning of his ray , And flames destruction on th ' opposing world . Death's broad banners dark , unfurl'd , Wave o'er his blood - encircled way ...
... Fires the east with crimson day , Awful o'er his foes impending , Pours wide the lightning of his ray , And flames destruction on th ' opposing world . Death's broad banners dark , unfurl'd , Wave o'er his blood - encircled way ...
Page 48
... fires of love what witty puns What similes of stars and suns ! What cringing , dancing , ogling , sighing , What languishing for love , and dying ! THE WEDDING . * Poor HARRIET now hath had her day ; No more the beaux confess her sway ...
... fires of love what witty puns What similes of stars and suns ! What cringing , dancing , ogling , sighing , What languishing for love , and dying ! THE WEDDING . * Poor HARRIET now hath had her day ; No more the beaux confess her sway ...
Page 55
... fires their souls , That tyrants leagued should still essay To bend their necks to foreign sway ! O son of our great Son of Fame , May deeds like his exalt thy name ! May fated Poland yet be free , And find a WASHINGTON in thee ...
... fires their souls , That tyrants leagued should still essay To bend their necks to foreign sway ! O son of our great Son of Fame , May deeds like his exalt thy name ! May fated Poland yet be free , And find a WASHINGTON in thee ...
Page 57
... fire of martial rage . Our veteran chiefs , whose honored scars Are trophies still of former wars , Appointed move beneath their SHIELD , To reap the ripened martial field . And lo ! from Vernon's sacred hill , Where peaceful spirits ...
... fire of martial rage . Our veteran chiefs , whose honored scars Are trophies still of former wars , Appointed move beneath their SHIELD , To reap the ripened martial field . And lo ! from Vernon's sacred hill , Where peaceful spirits ...
Contents
21 | |
26 | |
32 | |
37 | |
40 | |
48 | |
55 | |
62 | |
281 | |
288 | |
294 | |
300 | |
306 | |
315 | |
321 | |
329 | |
69 | |
81 | |
87 | |
93 | |
100 | |
108 | |
192 | |
198 | |
205 | |
211 | |
218 | |
226 | |
232 | |
238 | |
244 | |
250 | |
256 | |
266 | |
272 | |
335 | |
341 | |
349 | |
355 | |
358 | |
364 | |
371 | |
379 | |
385 | |
391 | |
398 | |
411 | |
428 | |
434 | |
440 | |
449 | |
455 | |
461 | |
467 | |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
appeared arms beauty beneath blue born breast breath bright brow CLEVELAND clouds cold College comes course dark dead death deep died dream early earth fair fall fame father fear feel field fire flowers friends give glory grace grave green hand happy hath head hear heart heaven hills hope hour kings land leaves light living look mind morning mountain native nature never night o'er once passed peace poem poetical pride published residence rest returned rise rocks roll rose round scene seemed shade shore skies sleep smile song soon soul sound spirit spread spring stars stream sweet swell tears tell thee thine thou thought tree turn voice volume waters wave wild winds wing young
Popular passages
Page 235 - And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, Bozzaris cheer his band : " Strike —till the last armed foe expires ; Strike — for your altars and your fires ; Strike — for the green graves of your sires ; God— and your native land...
Page 236 - Gives for thy sake a deadlier blow; His plighted maiden, when she fears For him the joy of her young years, Thinks of thy fate, and checks her tears; And she, the mother of thy boys, Though in her eye and faded cheek Is read the grief she will not speak, The memory of her buried joys, And even she who gave thee birth, Will, by their pilgrim-circled hearth, Talk of thy doom without a sigh; For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's: One of the few, the immortal names, That were not born to die.
Page 236 - Thy sunken eye's unearthly light To him is welcome as the sight Of sky and stars to prisoned men ; Thy grasp is welcome as the hand Of brother in a foreign land ; Thy summons welcome as the cry That told the Indian isles were nigh To the world-seeking Genoese When the land-wind, from woods of palm And orange-groves and fields of balm, Blew o'er the Haytian seas.
Page 235 - Come in consumption's ghastly form, The earthquake shock, the ocean storm ; Come when the heart beats high and warm, With banquet song and dance and wine, — And thou art terrible; the tear, The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, And all we know or dream or fear Of agony, are thine.
Page 211 - FLOW on forever, in thy glorious robe Of terror and of beauty. Yea, flow on Unfathomed and resistless. God hath set His rainbow on thy forehead ; and the cloud Mantled around thy feet. And he doth give Thy voice of thunder power to speak of Him Eternally, — bidding the lip of man Keep silence, — and upon thy rocky altar pour Incense of awe-struck praise.
Page 151 - From every place below the skies, The grateful song, the fervent prayer — The incense of the heart — may rise To heaven, and find acceptance there.
Page 317 - He was admitted to the bar, and commenced the practice of his profession in his native town ; but before the end of two years he was elected a Representative in the State Legislature, and during his second year's service was chosen Speaker of the House.
Page 238 - Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days ! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise.
Page 148 - And, as he's running by, Follow him with my eye, Scarcely believing that — he is not there! I know his face is hid Under the coffin lid; Closed are his eyes ; cold is his forehead fair. My hand that marble felt; O'er it in prayer I knelt ; Yet my heart whispers that — he is not there...
Page 234 - At midnight, in the forest shades, Bozzaris ranged his Suliote band, — True as the steel of their tried blades, Heroes in heart and hand. There had the Persian's thousands stood, There had the glad earth drunk their blood, On old...