The Poets of Connecticut: With Biographical SketchesCharles William Everest S. A. Rollo, 1860 - 468 páginas |
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Outras edições - Ver tudo
The Poets of Connecticut: With Biographical Sketches Charles William Everest Visualização integral - 1864 |
The Poets of Connecticut: With Biographical Sketches ... Charles William Everest Visualização integral - 1844 |
The Poets of Connecticut: With Biographical Sketches Charles William Everest Visualização integral - 1860 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
AARON CLEVELAND Alnwick Castle Anarchiad beauty beneath billows blessed bloom blue born bosom brave breast breath bright brow charms clouds cold Columbiad Congregational Church dark DAVID HUMPHREYS death deep dream earth Echo fade fair Fairfield County fame father fear feel flowers gaze glorious glory glow grave green grief HADAD Hartford hath heart heaven hills holy hour JOEL BARLOW JOHN TRUMBULL land LEMUEL HOPKINS light lone look lyre morning mountain mournful native night o'er Ocean pale peace poem poetical POETS OF CONNECTICUT pride published residence RICHARD ALSOP rise rock ROGER WOLCOTT roll rose round scene shade shine shore skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stars storm stream summer sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thought throne tree trembling Tripoli vale voice wake waters wave wild winds wing Yale College young
Passagens conhecidas
Página 232 - At midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power ; In dreams, through camp and court, he bore The trophies of a conqueror ; In dreams his song of triumph heard ; Then wore his monarch's signet ring, — Then pressed that monarch's throne, — a king ; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird.
Página 150 - In the God of battles trust! Die we may — and die we must; But, O where can dust to dust Be consigned so well, As where Heaven its dews shall shed On the martyred patriot's bed, And the rocks shall raise their head, Of his deeds to tell...
Página 236 - Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days ! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise.
Página 147 - He lives! — In all the past He lives ; nor, to the last, Of seeing him again will I despair; In dreams I see him now ; And, on his angel brow, I see it written, "Thou shalt see me there!
Página 224 - There have been loftier themes than his, And longer scrolls, and louder lyres, And lays lit up with Poesy's Purer and holier fires : Yet read the names that know not death ; Few nobler ones than Burns are there ; And few have won a greener wreath Than that which binds his hair. His is that language of the heart In which the answering heart would speak, Thought, word, that bids the warm tear start, Or the smile light the cheek ; And his that music, to whose tone The common pulse of man keeps time,...
Página 225 - Strong sense, deep feeling, passions strong, A hate of tyrant and of knave, A love of right, a scorn of wrong, Of coward and of slave ; A kind, true heart, a spirit high, That could not fear and would not bow, Were written in his manly eye And on his manly brow.
Página 272 - By the festal cities blaze, Whilst the wine-cup shines in light ; And yet amidst that joy and uproar Let us think of them that sleep, Full many a fathom deep, By thy wild and stormy steep, Elsinore.
Página 148 - The pilgrim exile, — sainted name ! The hill whose icy brow Rejoiced, when he came, in the morning's flame, In the morning's flame burns now. And the moon's cold light, as it lay that night On the hillside and the sea, Still lies where he laid his houseless head, — But the Pilgrim! where is he? The Pilgrim Fathers are at rest: When summer's throned on high, And the world's warm breast is in verdure drest, Go, stand on the hill where they lie.
Página 249 - Thou hast been, and shalt ever be, Till time is o'er. Ere I forget to think upon My land, shall mother curse the son She bore. Thou art the firm unshaken rock, On which we rest ; And, rising from thy hardy stock, Thy sons the tyrant's frown shall mock, And slavery's galling chains unlock, And free the oppressed : All, who the wreath of freedom twine, Beneath the shadow of their vine Are blest.
Página 232 - 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...