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Page 5
... child , The infant listening to the warbling bird , The mother smiling at its half - formed word ; The boy uncaged , who tracks the fields at large , The girl , turned matron to her babe - like charge ; The freeman , casting with ...
... child , The infant listening to the warbling bird , The mother smiling at its half - formed word ; The boy uncaged , who tracks the fields at large , The girl , turned matron to her babe - like charge ; The freeman , casting with ...
Page 14
... child unveils his clustered brow , And ponders for a while The graven willow's pendent bough , Or rudest cherub's smile . But what to them the dirge , the knell ? These were the mourner's share ; · The sullen clang , whose heavy swell ...
... child unveils his clustered brow , And ponders for a while The graven willow's pendent bough , Or rudest cherub's smile . But what to them the dirge , the knell ? These were the mourner's share ; · The sullen clang , whose heavy swell ...
Page 15
... wedge , -- Here scattered death ; yet , seek the spot , No trace thine eye can see , No altar , -- and they need it not Who leave their children free ! Look where the turbid rain - drops stand In many A METRICAL ESSAY . 15.
... wedge , -- Here scattered death ; yet , seek the spot , No trace thine eye can see , No altar , -- and they need it not Who leave their children free ! Look where the turbid rain - drops stand In many A METRICAL ESSAY . 15.
Page 19
... child at play , But men , who act the passions they inspire , Who wave the sabre as they sweep the lyre ! Ye mild enthusiasts , whose pacific frowns Are lost like dew - drops caught in burning towns , Pluck as ye will the radiant plumes ...
... child at play , But men , who act the passions they inspire , Who wave the sabre as they sweep the lyre ! Ye mild enthusiasts , whose pacific frowns Are lost like dew - drops caught in burning towns , Pluck as ye will the radiant plumes ...
Page 20
... children's shame Streamed o'er his memory like a forest's flame , Each treasured insult , each remembered wrong , Rolled through his heart and kindled into song ; His taper faded ; and the morning gales Swept through the world the war ...
... children's shame Streamed o'er his memory like a forest's flame , Each treasured insult , each remembered wrong , Rolled through his heart and kindled into song ; His taper faded ; and the morning gales Swept through the world the war ...
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Common terms and phrases
ancient arms beam beneath biped blaze blue breast breath bright brow burning cheek cherubs child clouds Copp's Hill curls dark dead dear dream dust earth faded fair faithless flame floating flowers fold friends fustian gale girls glance gleam glow golden grave green hand hear heart Heaven hills hour Iliad Katydid kerchief leaf leaves lift light lips living look lyre maid Marseilles memory Mont Blanc morning Muse naiad o'er once pale pennon percussion cap poet poet's Puritan restless heart ring roll rose round sachem shade shadows shalt shore side sigh silent skies smile song soul spectre star stethoscope stream sweet swell tears tell thee thine thou thought thrill tide toil tone tread trembling voice wandered warm wave weep wild winds wine wings Yankee girls young
Popular passages
Page 22 - AY, tear her tattered ensign down ! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky ; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar ; — The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more ! Her deck, once red with heroes...
Page 85 - THE LAST LEAF I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found 10 By the Crier on his round Through the town.
Page 269 - And all his sturdy men-at-arms were ranged about the board. He poured the fiery Hollands in, — the man that never feared, — He took a long and solemn draught, and wiped his yellow beard; And one by one the musketeers — the men that fought and prayed — All drank as 'twere their mother's milk, and not a man afraid.
Page 145 - Then up arose the oysterman, and to himself said he, "I guess I'll leave the skiff at home, for fear that folks should see: I read it in the story-book, that, for to kiss his dear, Leander swam the Hellespont, — and I will swim this here.
Page 23 - Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee;— The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea!
Page 269 - T was filled with caudle spiced and hot and handed smoking round. " But, changing hands, it reached at length a Puritan divine, Who used to follow Timothy, and take a little wine, But hated punch and prelacy ; and so it was, perhaps, He went to Leyden, where he found conventicles and schnaps.
Page 87 - My grandmamma has said — Poor old lady, she is dead Long ago— That he had a Roman nose, And his cheek was like a rose In the snow. 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! And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree In the spring, Let them smile, as I do now, At...
Page 273 - ... a young man in Boston town, He bought him a stethoscope nice and new, All mounted and finished and polished down, With an ivory cap and a stopper too. It happened a spider within did crawl, And spun him a web of ample size, Wherein there chanced one day to fall A couple of very imprudent flies. The first was a bottle-fly, big and blue, The second was smaller, and thin and long ; So there was a concert between the two, Like an octave flute and a tavern gong.
Page 129 - It is a joy to straighten out one's limbs, And leap elastic from the level counter, Leaving the petty grievances of earth, The breaking thread, the din of clashing shears, And all the needles that do wound the spirit, For such a pensive hour of soothing silence.
Page 187 - Hark ! the death-volley around them is ringing— Look ! with their life-blood the young grass is wet. Faint is the feeble breath, Murmuring low in death— " Tell to our sons how their fathers have died ;