Poems (Google eBook)

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Leavitt and Allen, 1855 - Poetry - 347 pages
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Page 330 - Not there, not there, my child! Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, . And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds on their starry wings, Bear the rich hues of all glorious things? Not there, not there, my child!
Page 267 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free!
Page 376 - O Lady! we receive but what we give And in our life alone does Nature live: Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud! And would we aught behold of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world allowed To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the Earth And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element!
Page 284 - And shouted but once more aloud, "My father! must I stay?" While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made way. They...
Page 267 - 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.
Page 287 - 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...
Page 31 - To him that wept a son ? He lived : for life may long be borne Ere sorrow break its chain ; Why comes not death to those who mourn ? He never smiled again...
Page 276 - 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...
Page 262 - O'er youth's bright locks, and beauty's flowery crown : Yet must thou hear a voice — Restore the dead ! Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee ! — Restore the dead, thou sea ! BRING FLOWERS.
Page 268 - 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 1 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 ! — Mrs.

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