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angel answer arms beautiful behold beneath birds breath bright child CHISPA close clouds comes Count dark dead Death deep DON CARLOS door dream earth Enter eyes face fair fall father fear feel fire flowers follow forest give gleam gold golden Gypsy hand hast head hear heard heart heaven holy hope hour HYPOLITO land LARA leaves light lips live look maiden morning never night o'er once PADRE passed play poor Pray prayer PRECIOSA rest rise river rose round sail SCENE seemed shadows ships side silent singing sleep soft song sorrow soul sound speak spirit stands stars stood strong sweet Take tears tell thee things thou thou art thought trees unto VICTORIAN village voice wait walls wandered waters wave wild wind window youth
Seite 205 - 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! We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Seite 221 - ALL are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time ; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is or low ; Each thing in its place is best ; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest.
Seite 204 - Then the Master, With a gesture of command, Waved his hand ; And at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard, All around them and below, The sound of hammers, blow on blow, Knocking away the shores and spurs. And see ! she stirs ! She starts, — she moves, — she seems to feel The thrill of life along her keel, And, spurning with her foot the ground, With one exulting, joyous bound, She leaps into the ocean's arms!
Seite 16 - TELL me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Seite 18 - I have nought that is fair?" saith he; "Have nought but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves.
Seite 63 - I SHOT an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, 1 knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong.
Seite 222 - In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part; For the Gods see everywhere. Let us do our work as well, Both the unseen and the seen! Make the house, where Gods may dwell, Beautiful, entire, and clean.
Seite 17 - Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need for arsenals or forts: The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!