Records of woman: and other poems

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W. Blackwood, 1853 - 276 pages
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Page 149 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea ; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free...
Page 148 - 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 95 - THE stately Homes of England, How beautiful they stand! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land. The deer across their greensward bound, Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream.
Page 149 - From his nest by the white wave's foam ; And the rocking pines of the forest roared, — This was their welcome home ! There were men with hoary hair Amidst that pilgrim Land; Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth ; There was manhood's brow, serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war 1 They sought a faith's pure...
Page 168 - O'er each fair sleeping brow ; She had each folded flower in sight, — Where are those dreamers now ? One, 'midst the forests of the West, By a dark stream is laid, — The Indian knows his place of rest, Far in the cedar shade. The sea, the blue, lone sea, hath one, He lies where pearls lie deep, — He was the loved of all, yet none O'er his low bed may weep.
Page 192 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 2 - In penury and pain too many a year, And, dying in despondency, bequeath To the kind world, which scarce will yield a tear A heritage enriching all who breathe With the wealth of a genuine poet's soul, And to...
Page 104 - Lay down my warlike banners here, Never again to wave, And bury my red sword and spear, Chiefs ! in my first-born's grave ! And leave me ! — I have conquered, I have slain : my work is done ! Whom have I slain ? Ye answer not — Thou too art mute, my son...
Page 2 - The time passed ; the waves were rising ; Arabella was not there; but in the distance he descried a vessel. Hiring a fisherman to take him on board...
Page 216 - HOW could Fancy crown with thee In ancient days the God of Wine, And bid thee at the banquet be Companion of the vine? Thy home, wild plant, is where each sound Of revelry hath long been o'er, Where song's full notes once peal'd around, But now are heard no more.

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