Poets of America: With Occasional Notes

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George Barrell Cheever
Andrus, 1849 - 405 Seiten
 

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Seite 53 - Thou'rt gone; the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up Ihy form; yet on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given. And shall not soon depart. He, who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight. In the long way that 1 must tread alone. Will lead my steps aright.
Seite 238 - Halleck. Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise. Tears fell, when thou wert dying, From eyes unused to weep, And long, where thou art lying, Will tears the cold turf steep. When hearts, whose trutli was proven, Like thine, are laid in
Seite 56 - Strike—till the last armed foe expires, Strike—for your altars and your fires, Strike—for the green graves of your sires, God—and your native land!" They fought, like brave men, long and well, They piled that ground with Moslem slain, They conquered—but Bozzaris
Seite 217 - She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there ; She mingled with the gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure celestial white, With streakings of the morning
Seite 53 - hath sunk the lesson thou hast given. And shall not soon depart. He, who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight. In the long way that 1 must tread alone. Will lead my steps aright.
Seite 56 - His last words were—** To die for liberty is a pleasure, and not a pain."] 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
Seite 149 - by? Oh, from these sterner aspects of thy face, Spare me and mine; nor let us need the wrath Of the mad, unchained elements to teach Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate, In these calm shades, thy milder majesty, And to the beautiful order of thy works, Learn
Seite 34 - In the cold moist earth we laid her when the forest cast the leaf, And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief; Yet not unmeet it was, that one, like that young
Seite 49 - rove, Where the waters murmur tranquilly, Through the bending twigs of the coral grove. Hebrew Melody.—Mrs. JG Brooks. Jeremiah z. 17. From the hall of our fathers in anguish we fled, Nor again will its marble re-echo our tread, For the breath of the Siroc has blasted our name, And the frown of Jehovah has crushed
Seite 192 - way-side a-weary. Through the trees The golden robin moves; the purple finch, That on wild cherry and red cedar feeds,— A winter bird,—comes with its plantive whistle, And pecks by the witch-hazel; whilst aloud, From cottage roofs, the warbling blue-bird sings; And merrily, with oft-repeated stroke, Sounds from the threshing-floor the busy flail. 17

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