The Ladies' Wreath: A Selection from the Female Poetic Writers of England and America : with Original Notices and Notes : Prepared Especially for Young Ladies : a Gift Book for All Seasons

Portada
Marsh, Capen & Lyon, 1837 - 408 páginas
Pt. 2. American authors: Lydia Huntley Sigourney -- Hannah F. Gould -- Emma C. Embury -- Anna Maria Wells -- Sarah Louisa P. Smith -- Lucretia Maria Davidson -- Frances Sargent Osgood -- Anna Peyre Dinnies -- Sarah Helen Whitman -- Caroline Gilman -- Elizabeth F. Ellet -- Sarah Josepha Hale.

Dentro del libro

Comentarios de la gente - Escribir un comentario

No encontramos ningún comentario en los lugares habituales.

Páginas seleccionadas

Otras ediciones - Ver todas

Términos y frases comunes

Pasajes populares

Página 259 - In diamond beads ; and over the breast Of the quivering lake he spread A coat of mail, that it need not fear The downward point of many a spear That he hung on its margin, far and near, Where a rock could rear its head. He went to the windows of those who slept, And over each pane, like a fairy, crept ; Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped...
Página 24 - The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one, He lies where pearls lie deep, He was the loved of all, yet none O'er his low bed may weep.
Página 36 - We know when moons shall wane, When summer birds from far shall cross the sea, When autumn's hue shall tinge the golden grain — But who shall teach us when to look for thee ? Is it when spring's first gale Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie? Is it when roses in our paths grow pale ? — They have one season — all are ours to die...
Página 52 - Her lot is on you !— to be found untired, Watching the stars out by the bed of pain, With a pale cheek, and yet a brow inspired, And a true heart of hope, though hope be vain ; Meekly to bear with wrong, to cheer decay, And oh ! to love through all things— therefore pray...
Página 115 - DOWN in a green and shady bed, A modest violet grew, Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from view.
Página 36 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at. the north-wind's breath, And stars to set — but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death.
Página 19 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Página 22 - BERNARD BARTON. BY the soft green light in the woody glade, On the banks of moss where thy childhood play'd, By the household tree through which thine eye First look'd in love to the summer sky, By the dewy gleam, by the very breath Of the primrose tufts in the grass beneath, Upon thy heart there is laid a spell, Holy and precious — oh!
Página 55 - ... and dew-bright eye, And the bounding footstep, to meet me fly ! With the lyre, and the wreath, and the joyous lay, Come forth to the sunshine — I may not stay. Away from the dwellings of care-worn men, The waters are sparkling in grove and glen ! Away from the chamber and sullen hearth, ( The young leaves are dancing in breezy mirth ! Their light stems thrill to the wild-wood strains, And youth is abroad in my green domains...
Página 20 - There were men with hoary hair Amidst that pilgrim band: Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land? There was a woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? They sought a faith's pure shrine!

Información bibliográfica