Specimens of American poetry: with critical and biographical notices. In three volumes, Volume 3 (Google eBook)

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S.G. Goodrich and Co., 1829 - American poetry
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Page 143 - Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep the dead reign there alone.
Page 82 - When death is nigh, my latest sigh Will not be life's, but hers. I fill'd this cup to one made up Of loveliness alone, A woman, of her gentle sex The seeming paragon Her health! and would on earth there stood Some more of such a frame, That life might be all poetry, And weariness a name.
Page 40 - There with its waving blade of green. The sea-flag streams through the silent water, And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen To blush, like a banner bathed in slaughter: There with a light and easy motion, The fan-coral Sweeps through the clear deep sea; And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean Are bending like corn on the upland lea: And life, in rare and beautiful forms.
Page 153 - And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more. And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side : In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forest cast...
Page 172 - Her soldier, closing with the foe, Gives for thy sake a deadlier blow; His plighted maiden, when she fears For him, the Joy of her young years, Thinks of thy fate and checks her tears. And she, the mother of thy boys. Though in her eye and faded cheek Is read the grief she will not speak, The memory of her buried Joys, And even she who gave thee birth, Will by...
Page 142 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language: for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty; and she glides Into his darker musings with a mild And healing sympathy that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware.
Page 142 - Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, And, lost each human trace...
Page 375 - Several Poems compiled with great variety of Wit and Learning, full of Delight...
Page 175 - They love their land, because it is their own, And scorn to give aught other reason why ; Would shake hands with a king upon his throne, And think it kindness to his majesty; A stubborn race, fearing and flattering none.
Page 237 - Take thy banner ! But when night Closes round the ghastly fight, If the vanquished warrior bow, Spare him ! By our holy vow, By our prayers and many tears, By the mercy that endears, Spare him ! he our love hath shared ! Spare him ! as thou wouldst be spared ! "Take thy banner ! and if e'er Thou shouldst press the soldier's bier, And the muffled drum should beat To the tread of mournful feet, Then this crimson flag shall be Martial cloak and shroud for thee.

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