The Writings of James Russell Lowell: Poems (Google eBook)

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Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1890 - American literature
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Page 303 - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays; Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
Page 44 - The rich man's son inherits cares ; The bank may break, the factory burn, A breath may burst his bubble shares, And soft white hands could hardly earn A living that would serve his turn ; A heritage, it seems to me, One scarce would wish to hold in fee.
Page 312 - I behold in thee An image of Him who died on the tree ; Thou also hast had thy crown of thorns, Thou also hast had the world's buffets and scorns, And to thy life were not denied The wounds in the hands and feet and side. Mild Mary's Son, acknowledge me ; Behold! through him I give to thee!
Page 237 - How like a prodigal doth nature seem, When thou, for all thy gold, so common art! Thou teachest me to deem More sacredly of every human heart, Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret show, Did we but pay the love we owe, And with a child's undoubting wisdom look On all these living pages of God's book.
Page 302 - Gives hope and fervor, nearer draws his theme, First guessed by faint auroral flushes sent Along the wavering vista of his dream. Not only around our infancy Doth heaven with all its splendors lie ; Daily, with souls that cringe and plot, We Sinais climb and know it not.
Page 156 - Men! Whose boast it is that ye Come of fathers brave and free, If there breathe on earth a slave, Are ye truly free and brave? If ye do not feel the chain, When it works a brother's pain, Are ye not base slaves indeed, Slaves unworthy to be freed?
Page 309 - Twas as if every image that mirrored lay In his depths serene through the summer day, Each fleeting shadow of earth and sky, Lest the happy model should be lost, Had been mimicked in fairy masonry By the elfin builders of the frost.
Page 147 - No man is born into the world, whose work Is not born with him ; there is always work, And tools to work withal, for those who will; And blessed are the horny hands of toil I The busy world shoves angrily aside The man who stands with arms akimbo set.
Page 191 - Backward look across the ages and the beacon-moments see, That, like peaks of some sunk continent, jut through Oblivion's sea ; Not an ear in court or market for the low foreboding cry Of those Crises, God's stern winnowers, from whose feet earth's chaff must fly ; Never shows the choice momentous till the judgment hath passed by. Careless seems the great Avenger ; history's pages but record One death-grapple in the darkness 'twixt old systems and the Word...
Page 236 - Spring's largess, which she scatters now To rich and poor alike, with lavish hand, Though most hearts never understand To take it at God's value, but pass by The offered wealth with unrewarded eye. Thou art my tropics and mine Italy ; To look at thee unlocks a warmer clime; The eyes thou givest me Are in the heart and heed not space or time : Not in mid June the golden-cuirassed bee Feels a more Summer-like, warm ravishment In the white lily's breezy tent, His fragrant Sybaris, than I, when first...

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