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beauty beneath blue break breath breeze bright cloud comes dark dead death deep door dream earth eyes face fair fall fear feet fire flow flowers forest gleam golden grave gray green grew hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour island John land leaves light living lonely look marching Mass memory morning mountain Nature never night o'er o’er ocean once pale pass pines rest rise river rocks roll rose round sail sands seemed seen shadow shine ship shore side sight silent song soul sound spirit stands star stone stood storm stream strong summer sweet tears tell thee thou thought tide town tree turn village voice wall watch waters waves wide wild wind woods young
Page 138 - Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught...
Page 51 - ANNOUNCED by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, And veils the farm-house 'at the garden's end. The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Page 138 - I saw her bright reflection In the waters under me, Like a golden goblet falling And sinking into the sea. And far in the hazy distance Of that lovely night in June, The blaze of the flaming furnace Gleamed redder than the moon.
Page 201 - THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. IT was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea ; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company.
Page 53 - Littered the stalls, and from the mows Raked down the herd's-grass for the cows : Heard the horse whinnying for his corn : And, sharply clashing horn on horn, Impatient down the stanchion rows The cattle shake their walnut bows...
Page 27 - THE Muse," disgusted at an age and clime Barren of every glorious theme, In distant lands now waits a better time, Producing subjects worthy fame ; — In happy climes, where, from the genial sun And virgin earth, such scenes ensue, The force of art by nature seems outdone, And fancied beauties by the true ; — In happy climes, the seat of innocence, Where nature guides and virtue rules ; Where men shall not impose, for truth and sense, The pedantry
Page 203 - But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he. Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, With his face turned to the skies, The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow On his fixed and glassy eyes. Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be; And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave.
Page 52 - Parian wreaths; A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn; Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall, Maugre the farmer's sighs; and at the gate A tapering turret overtops the work. And when his hours are numbered, and the world Is all his own, retiring, as he were not, Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone, Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow.
Page 140 - For my heart was hot and restless, And my life was full of care, And the burden laid upon me Seemed greater than I could bear. But now it has fallen from me ; It is buried in the sea, And only the sorrow of others Throws its shadow over me.