The Poets of Connecticut: With Biographical SketchesCharles William Everest |
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Page iv
... hand to the venerable names of TIMOTHY and THEODORE DWIGHT , and the later ones of our Reverend brethren , WILLIAM CROSWELL , GEORGE BURGESS , and ARTHUR CLEVELAND COXE , as also the pleasant lyrist , ANN CHARLOTTE LYNCH . They all ...
... hand to the venerable names of TIMOTHY and THEODORE DWIGHT , and the later ones of our Reverend brethren , WILLIAM CROSWELL , GEORGE BURGESS , and ARTHUR CLEVELAND COXE , as also the pleasant lyrist , ANN CHARLOTTE LYNCH . They all ...
Page 27
... hands have slain ; Oh ! could thy balsam give it life again , With grateful heart I'd own thy gen'rous aid , As ... hand had slain ! From yonder tree it wing'd its airy way , And perched upon the willow's topmost spray ; Thoughtless ...
... hands have slain ; Oh ! could thy balsam give it life again , With grateful heart I'd own thy gen'rous aid , As ... hand had slain ! From yonder tree it wing'd its airy way , And perched upon the willow's topmost spray ; Thoughtless ...
Page 29
... hand hath slain without design ; Let pity move - but guilt may not be thine . Suffice the grief - enough the tears you've shed , To make amends , and weep the hapless dead : And now to give your burdened mind relief , And in a word to ...
... hand hath slain without design ; Let pity move - but guilt may not be thine . Suffice the grief - enough the tears you've shed , To make amends , and weep the hapless dead : And now to give your burdened mind relief , And in a word to ...
Page 38
... hand , and with an unerring aim . The reader recognizes continually the wit in the hero ; and so keen is the author's perception of the ridiculous , that whatever the object of his sarcasm , it never escapes a most ludicrous ...
... hand , and with an unerring aim . The reader recognizes continually the wit in the hero ; and so keen is the author's perception of the ridiculous , that whatever the object of his sarcasm , it never escapes a most ludicrous ...
Page 41
... 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 of his saints , Where ...
... 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 of his saints , Where ...
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Common terms and phrases
AARON CLEVELAND Anarchiad ARTHUR CLEVELAND COXE BARLOW beauty beneath billows blessed bloom blue born bosom brave breast breath bright brow charms clime clouds Columbiad Congregational Church Connecticut dark death deep dream earth Echo ELIHU H fade fair fame father fear feel flowers gaze GEORGE DENISON glorious glory glow grace grave green HADAD Hartford hath heart heaven hills holy hour kings land LEMUEL HOPKINS light lone lyre morning mountain muse native night o'er ocean pale peace poem poetical pride published residence RICHARD ALSOP rise rock ROGER WOLCOTT roll round scene shade shine shore sigh skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stars stream sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou thought throne tree trembling Tripoli TRUMBULL vale verse voice wake waters wave ween wild winds wings Yale College 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...