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Page 184 - 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! Fear not each sudden sound and shock, 'Tis of the...
Page 140 - We know the forest round us, As seamen know the sea; We know its walls of thorny vines. Its glades of reedy grass, Its safe and silent islands Within the dark morass. Woe to the English soldiery That little dread us near! On them shall light at midnight A strange and sudden fear; . When, waking to their tents on fire They grasp their arms in vain, And they who stand to face us Are beat to earth again...
Page 186 - 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, half conceals, half discloses?
Page 187 - Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave: And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave...
Page 177 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Page 186 - Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming...
Page 233 - Not there, not there, my child!" " Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ?— Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds, on their starry...
Page 356 - I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses ; I linger by my shingly bars ; I loiter round my cresses ; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For...
Page 322 - The golden ripple on the wall came back again, and nothing else stirred in the room. The old, old fashion! The fashion that came in with our first garments, and will last unchanged until our race has run its course, and the wide firmament is rolled up like a scroll.