PoemsHenry C. Baird, 1850 - 413 páginas |
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Página 5
... Tree . 301 Annie of Tharaw 303 5. Spanish . Coplas de Manrique . The Good Shepherd To - Morrow · The Native Land The Image of God The Brook 6. French . Spring . The Child Asleep 7. Italian . The Celestial Pilot . The Terrestrial ...
... Tree . 301 Annie of Tharaw 303 5. Spanish . Coplas de Manrique . The Good Shepherd To - Morrow · The Native Land The Image of God The Brook 6. French . Spring . The Child Asleep 7. Italian . The Celestial Pilot . The Terrestrial ...
Página 13
... grove receives No sunlight from above , But the dark foliage interweaves In one unbroken roof of leaves , Underneath whose sloping eaves The shadows hardly move . Beneath some patriarchal tree I lay upon the ground ; B 13 Prelude.
... grove receives No sunlight from above , But the dark foliage interweaves In one unbroken roof of leaves , Underneath whose sloping eaves The shadows hardly move . Beneath some patriarchal tree I lay upon the ground ; B 13 Prelude.
Página 14
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Beneath some patriarchal tree I lay upon the ground ; His hoary arms uplifted he , And all the broad leaves over me Clapped their little hands in glee , With one continuous sound ; - A slumberous sound , a ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Beneath some patriarchal tree I lay upon the ground ; His hoary arms uplifted he , And all the broad leaves over me Clapped their little hands in glee , With one continuous sound ; - A slumberous sound , a ...
Página 15
... trees whispered low and mild ; It was a sound of joy ! They were my playmates when a child , And rocked me in their arms so wild ! Still they looked at me and smiled , As if I were a boy ; And ever whispered , mild and low , " Come , be ...
... trees whispered low and mild ; It was a sound of joy ! They were my playmates when a child , And rocked me in their arms so wild ! Still they looked at me and smiled , As if I were a boy ; And ever whispered , mild and low , " Come , be ...
Página 57
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. MISCELLANEOUS . THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH . UNDER a spreading chestnut tree The village smithy stands ; The smith , a mighty man is he , With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. MISCELLANEOUS . THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH . UNDER a spreading chestnut tree The village smithy stands ; The smith , a mighty man is he , With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Albrecht Dürer Alcalá ancient angel Art thou BALTASAR BARTOLOMÉ beautiful behold BELFRY OF BRUGES beneath Beware birds breath bright brooklet cachucha child CHISPA clouds Count of Lara CRUZADO dance dark dead Death DON CARLOS Dost thou doth dreams earth Excelsior Exeunt eyes fair father fear flowers FRANCISCO gentle Gerónimo Gil Gipsy gleams gold golden grave Guy de Dampierre hand hear heart heaven holy HYPOLITO JULIUS MOSEN land leaves Life's light lips look loud Luck of Edenhall maiden midnight MONK moon mountains night Nils Juel o'er PADRE CURA PEDRO CRESPO Pray prayer PRECIOSA rain ring rise river Saint sang SCENE shadows silent silver sing sleep slumbered soft song sorrow soul sound stand star stood sweet tears Tharaw thee thine thou art thou hast thou shalt thought Timoneda trees unto VICTORIAN village voice wild wind woods youth
Pasajes populares
Página 21 - TELL me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Página 24 - He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. "My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," The Reaper said, and smiled; "Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child. "They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.
Página 43 - Skimmed the half-frozen Sound, That the poor whimpering hound Trembled to walk on. "Oft to his frozen lair Tracked I the grisly bear, While from my path the hare Fled like a shadow; Oft through the forest dark Followed the were-wolf's bark, Until the soaring lark Sang from the meadow.
Página 86 - Were half the power, that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts: The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
Página 45 - Wild was the life we led ; Many the souls that sped, Many the hearts that bled, By our stern orders. " Many a wassail-bout Wore the long Winter out ; Often our midnight shout Set the cocks crowing, As we the Berserk's tale Measured in cups of ale, Draining the oaken pail, Filled to o'erflowing.
Página 387 - I SHOT an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, 1 knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong.
Página 345 - How beautiful is the rain ! After the dust and heat, In the broad and fiery street, In the narrow lane, How beautiful is the rain ! How it clatters along the roofs, Like the tramp of hoofs ! How it gushes and struggles out From the throat of the overflowing spout ! Across the window-pane It pours and pours ; And swift and wide, With a muddy tide, Like a river down the gutter roars The rain, the welcome rain...
Página 35 - Through woods and mountain passes The winds, like anthems, roll ; They are chanting solemn masses, Singing, " Pray for this poor soul, Pray, — pray!" And the hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain...
Página 47 - Waving his armed hand, Saw we old Hildebrand, With twenty horsemen. "Then launched they to the blast, Bent like a reed each mast, Yet we were gaining fast, When the wind failed us; And with a sudden flaw Came round the gusty Skaw,* So that our foe we saw Laugh as he hailed us. "And as to catch the gale Round veered the flapping sail, Death! was the helmsman's hail, Death without quarter!
Página 75 - Bear a lily in thy hand; Gates of brass cannot withstand One touch of that magic wand. Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth, In thy heart the dew of youth, On thy lips the smile of truth.