Potter's American Monthly, Volúmenes16-17

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J. E. Potter and Company, 1881
 

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p. 393 description of Heidleberg in 1881

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Página 105 - FEAR death? — to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, The post of the foe ; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, Yet the strong man must go...
Página 34 - Now, upon SYRIA'S land of roses Softly the light of eve reposes, And, like a glory, the broad sun Hangs over sainted LEBANON ; Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, And whitens with eternal sleet, While summer, in a vale of flowers, Is sleeping rosy at his feet.
Página 363 - Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
Página 104 - And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott. Lying, robed in snowy white That loosely flew to left and right The leaves upon her falling light Thro...
Página 104 - Death closes all: but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep 55 Moans round with many voices.
Página 105 - Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows ; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho...
Página 4 - He saw the Lake, and a meteor bright Quick over its surface played — "Welcome," he said, "my dear one's light!
Página 105 - Old age hath yet his honour and his toil ; Death closes all; but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done Not unbecoming men that strove with gods.
Página 280 - I wish her store Of worth may leave her poor Of wishes, and I wish — no more. Now if time knows That her whose radiant brows Weave them a garland of my vows, Her...
Página 109 - One show'd an iron coast and angry waves. You seem'd to hear them climb and fall And roar rock-thwarted under bellowing caves, Beneath the windy wall.

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