Poems, Volume 2 (Google eBook)

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Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, 1853
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Page 331 - 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!
Page 354 - There is no Death ! What seems so is transition ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life Elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Page 23 - THIS is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling, Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms ; But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing Startles the villages with strange alarms. Ah ! what a sound will rise, how wild and dreary, When the death-angel touches those swift keys ! What loud lament and dismal Miserere Will mingle with their awful symphonies...
Page 78 - Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavour ; And to-night I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart. As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the...
Page 316 - Standing before Her father's door, He saw the form of his promised bride. The sun shone on her golden hair, And her cheek was glowing fresh and fair, With the breath of morn and the soft sea air.
Page 283 - TN that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware's waters, Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle, Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded. There all the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem of beauty, And the streets still re-echo the names of the trees of the forest, As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they molested.
Page 100 - All are scattered now and fled, Some are married, some are dead ; And when I ask. with throbs of pain, ' Ah ! when shall they all meet again ?" As in the days long since gone by, The ancient timepiece makes reply, " Forever never ! Never forever !
Page 131 - Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small ; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
Page 97 - Half-way up the stairs it stands, And points and beckons with its hands ' From its case of massive oak, Like a monk, who, under his cloak, Crosses himself, and sighs, alas! With sorrowful voice to all who pass, "Forever never ! Never forever...
Page 139 - THE book is completed, And closed, like the day ; And the hand that has written It Lays it away. Dim grow its fancies ; Forgotten they lie ; Like coals in the ashes, They darken and die. Song sinks into silence, The story is told, The windows are darkened, The hearth-stone is cold. Darker and darker The black shadows fall ; Sleep and oblivion Reign over alL EVANGELINE. A TALE OF ACADIE. THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks...

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