The Library of Choice Literature and Encyclopædia of Universal Authorship ... (Google eBook)

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Ainsworth Rand Spofford, Charles Gibbon
Gebbie & Company, 1893 - Literature
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Page 59 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Page 93 - And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, Bozzaris cheer his band: "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...
Page 93 - Come in consumption's ghastly form, The earthquake shock, the ocean storm ; Come when the heart beats high and warm With banquet-song and dance and wine, — And thou art terrible : the tear, The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, And all we know or dream or fear Of agony, are thine.
Page 59 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret...
Page 133 - I REMEMBER, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn ; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away!
Page 157 - But wit, abstracted from its effects upon the hearer, may be more rigorously and philosophically considered as a kind of discordia concors; a combination of dissimilar images, or discovery of occult resemblances in things apparently unlike.
Page 59 - Darkling I listen; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy!
Page 120 - By a daisy whose leaves spread, Shut when Titan goes to bed; Or a shady bush or tree She could more infuse in me, Than all nature's beauties can In some other wiser man.
Page 93 - Come to the bridal chamber, death ! Come to the mother when she feels For the first time her firstborn's breath ; — Come when the blessed seals Which close the pestilence are broke, And crowded cities wail its stroke...
Page 86 - ... burial, and we shall perceive the distance to be very great and very strange. But so have I seen a rose newly springing from the clefts of its hood, and at first it was fair as the morning, and full with the dew of heaven as a lamb's fleece; but when a ruder breath had forced open its virgin modesty, and dismantled its too youthful and unripe retirements, it began to put on darkness, and to decline to softness and the symptoms of a sickly age; it bowed the head...

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