The poetical works of H.W. Longfellow |
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Page 9
... breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows . When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noon - tide Flagons of home - brewed ale , ah ! fair in sooth was the maiden . Fairer was she when , on Sunday morn , while the ...
... breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows . When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noon - tide Flagons of home - brewed ale , ah ! fair in sooth was the maiden . Fairer was she when , on Sunday morn , while the ...
Page 25
... breath of magnolia blossoms , And with the heat of noon ; and numberless sylvan islands , Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming hedges of roses , Near to whose shores they glided along , invited to slumber . Soon by the fairest ...
... breath of magnolia blossoms , And with the heat of noon ; and numberless sylvan islands , Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming hedges of roses , Near to whose shores they glided along , invited to slumber . Soon by the fairest ...
Page 27
... breathing the vapoury freshness That uprose from the river , and spread itself over the landscape . Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side , and expanding Fully his broad , deep chest , he blew a blast , that resounded Wildly and ...
... breathing the vapoury freshness That uprose from the river , and spread itself over the landscape . Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side , and expanding Fully his broad , deep chest , he blew a blast , that resounded Wildly and ...
Page 32
... breath from the region of spirits Seemed to float in the air of night ; and she felt for a moment That , like the Indian maid , she , too , was pursuing a phantom . And with this thought she slept , and the fear and the phantom had ...
... breath from the region of spirits Seemed to float in the air of night ; and she felt for a moment That , like the Indian maid , she , too , was pursuing a phantom . And with this thought she slept , and the fear and the phantom had ...
Page 34
... breath of the summer - winds a rumour was wafted Sweeter than song of bird , or hue or odour of blossom . Far to the north and east , it said , in the Michigan forests , Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw river . And ...
... breath of the summer - winds a rumour was wafted Sweeter than song of bird , or hue or odour of blossom . Far to the north and east , it said , in the Michigan forests , Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw river . And ...
Autres éditions - Tout afficher
The Poetical Works of H. W. Longfellow. [Illustrated.] Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Affichage du livre entier - 1864 |
Expressions et termes fréquents
Acadian Albrecht Dürer angel art thou BARTOLOME beautiful behold beneath birds bosom breath bride bright brooklet cachucha child CHISPA clouds Count of Lara CRUZADO dance dark dead death DON CARLOS Don Dinero Dost thou doth dream earth Edenhall eyes fair father fear flowers FRANCISCO gentle Gipsy girl gleam gold golden grave Guy de Dampierre hand hear heard heart heaven holy HYPOLITO Jorge Manrique JULIUS MOSEN land leaves light lips look loud maiden merry midnight moon morning night Nils Juel o'er PADRE CURA pass Pray prayer PRECIOSA rain ring rise river round sail Saint sang SCENE shadows shalt ships silent silver singing sleep slumbered smile soft song sorrow soul sound stands stars stood sweet tears Tharaw thee thine thou art thou hast thought Timoneda unto VICTORIAN village voice wander wave weary wild wind window youth
Fréquemment cités
Page 64 - There is no Death ! What seems so is transition. This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Page 115 - THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior...
Page 83 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an Eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist; A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Page 7 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Page 99 - Like the horns of an angry bull. Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, With the masts went by the board; Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank, Ho! ho! the breakers roared! At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, A fisherman stood aghast, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lashed close to a drifting mast. The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes; And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, On the billows fall and rise. Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight...
Page 57 - Tis of the wave and not the rock ; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore. Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with th.ee.
Page 57 - Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate...
Page 42 - WHEN the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight; Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fire-light Dance upon the parlor wall; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more...
Page 97 - Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the Northeast; The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast. Down came the storm, and smote amain, The vessel in its strength; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cable's length. "Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale, That ever wind did blow.
Page 94 - 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. "But when I older grew, Joining a corsair's crew, O'er the dark sea I flew With the marauders. Wild was the life we led, Many the souls that sped, Many the hearts that bled, By our stern orders.