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bear beauty beneath blue borne bound breast breath breeze bright Bring brow burst child clear dark dead death deep died dreams dust dwell earth ev'n face faded faint fair fall father fear flowers gaze glance gleam glow gone grave green hall hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven hills hope hour land leaves light lips living lone look look'd midst mountains mournful night Note o'er once pale pass'd rest rise rocks rose round scene seem'd seen shades shadows shining shore silent sleep smile soft song soul sound speak spirit spring stars step stood storm strain streams sweet sword tears tell thee thine things thou art Thou hast thought tone voice wave weep wild wind woods young youth
Página 215 - 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 177 - Yet more, the Depths have more ! — What wealth untold Far down, and shining through their stillness lies ! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal Argosies.
Página 261 - Death ! Day is for mortal care, Eve, for glad meetings round the joyous hearth, Night, for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer ; But all for thee, thou mightiest of the earth...
Página 301 - Speak, Father!" once again he cried, "If I may yet be gone!" —And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Página 254 - Their graves are severed far and wide, By mount, and stream, and sea. The same fond mother bent at night O'er each fair sleeping brow ; She had each folded flower in sight — Where are those dreamers now ? One, 'midst the forests of the West, By a dark stream is laid — The Indian knows his place of rest, Far in the cedar shade.
Página 215 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land ? There was 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 ! Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod ; They have left unstained what there they found, — Freedom to worship God.
Página 280 - And men stood breathless in their dread. And baffled in their skill — But One was there, who rose and said To the wild sea,
Página 285 - Thou tak'st through the dim church-aisle thy way, And its pillars from twilight flash forth to day, And its high pale tombs, with their trophies old, Are bathed in a flood as of burning gold.