Poems of Places: America (Google eBook)

Front Cover
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
J. R. Osgood, 1879 - English poetry
0 Reviews
  

What people are saying - Write a review

We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 72 - To show that one heart was loyal yet. Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. Under his slouched hat left and right He glanced: the old flag met his sight. "Halt!
Page 241 - Up from the South at break of day, Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, The affrighted air with a shudder bore, Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door, The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar, Telling the battle was on once more, And Sheridan twenty miles away.
Page 33 - Oh, say, can you see by the dawn's early light What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming; Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming? And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Page 255 - As the marsh-hen secretly builds on the watery sod, Behold I will build me a nest on the greatness of God ; I will fly in the greatness of God as the marshhen flies In the freedom that fills all the space 'twixt the marsh and the skies: By so many roots as the marsh-grass sends in the sod I will heartily lay me a-hold on the greatness of God...
Page 33 - O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
Page 61 - BY the flow of the inland river, Whence the fleets of iron have fled, Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver, Asleep -are the ranks of the dead ; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Under the one, the Blue ; Under the other, the Gray.
Page 170 - Far away in the cot on the mountain. His musket falls slack ; his face, dark and grim, Grows gentle with memories tender, As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep; For their mother may Heaven defend her!
Page 73 - Over the heads of the rebel host. Ever its torn folds rose and fell On the loyal winds that loved it well ; And through the hill-gaps sunset light Shone over it with a warm good-night.
Page 261 - ... music, That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen. Plaintive at first were the tones and sad : then soaring to madness Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied Bacchantes. Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lamentation ; Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in derision, As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree-tops Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower on the branches.
Page 63 - Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Under the blossoms, the Blue; Under the garlands, the Gray No more shall the war-cry sever, Or the winding rivers be red; They banish our anger forever, When they laurel the graves of our dead. Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Love and tears for the Blue; Tears and love for the Gray.

Bibliographic information