What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
angels antumn beanty beneath bird blessed blood bloom blow breath brow calm Cape Ann chain cloud cold danghter dark dead dear dream earth Esbern Snare eternal evermore evil eyes faith fall Faneuil Hall fathers fear feet flowers freedom God's Goody Cole grave gray green hand hath hear heard heart heaven hills holv holy human land langh light lips living look Lord mountain murmur never Newbury town night Norembega Norridgewock o'er pain panse peace Pennacook pines poor praise pray prayer Quaker Ramoth rills rock round sail shade shadow shame shine shore silent sing slave slavery smile song soul sound spirit sunset sunshine sweet tears thee thine thou thought toil tread trees truth unto voice wall wampum waters waves weary Weetamoo weleome wigwam wild wind wood words wrong
Page 319 - Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord, What may thy service be ? — Nor name, nor form, nor ritual word, But simply following Thee.
Page 224 - Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart By the women of Marblehead!
Page 206 - Dozing and grumbling o'er pipe and mug, A manly form at her side she saw, And joy was duty and love was law. Then she took up her burden of life again, Saying only,
Page 286 - So all night long the storm roared on : The morning broke without a sun ; In tiny spherule traced with lines Of Nature's geometric signs, In starry flake, and pellicle, All day the hoary meteor fell ; And, when the second morning shone, We looked upon a world unknown, On nothing we could call our own.
Page 200 - WE cross the prairie as of old The pilgrims crossed the sea, To make the West, as they the East, The homestead of the free...
Page 141 - I hear the tread of pioneers Of nations yet to be ; The first low wash of waves, where soon Shall roll a human sea. The rudiments of empire here Are plastic yet and warm ; The chaos of a mighty world Is rounding into form...
Page 151 - It may not be our lot to wield The sickle in the ripened field ; Nor ours to hear, on summer eves, The reaper's song among the sheaves ; Yet where our duty's task is wrought In unison with God's great thought, The near and future blend in one, And whatsoe'er is willed is done...
Page 153 - That all of good the past hath had Remains to make our own time glad, Our common daily life divine, And every land a Palestine.
Page 128 - Hatred's fagots burn, Glimpses through the smoke discern Of the good hereafter. Knowing this, that never yet Share of Truth was vainly set In the world's wide fallow; After hands shall sow the seed, After hands from hill and mead Reap the harvests yellow. Thus, with somewhat of the Seer, Must the moral pioneer From the Future borrow; Clothe the waste with dreams of grain, And, on midnight's sky of rain, Paint the golden morrow!