The Broken Vow, and Other Poems

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Gould, Kendall & Lincoln, 1845 - American poetry - 324 pages
 

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The author looks exactly like a lady I use to know.

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Page 48 - In quivering tones her answer came, — Her eyes were dim with tears ; ' My boy his mother's life must claim For many, many years.' I questioned one in manhood's prime, Of proud and fearless air ; His brow was furrowed not by time, Or dimmed by woe and care. In angry accents he replied, And flashed with scorn his eye ; ' Talk not to me of death,' he cried,
Page 96 - O ! tell me not of the loneliness Of the wood, nor call it drear, For a thousand, thousand living things To gladden its depths are here. Some pass me by on their pinions light, Through the trackless realms of air, And some repose on the bending flower, Their couch in its blossoms fair. Some hide in the twisted, grass-grown roots Of the lofty oak or pine ; And some in the bark of the old fir trees, Which the ivy tendrils twine. And the answering echoes of my soul Go forth at each joyous tone, Which...
Page 264 - ... jewels, thou ! Wreathing with light the fleecy cloud that veils With its thin mantle, for a little space, The full-orbed lustre of thy beaming face — Casting thy splendor on the sleeping dales, Fields, woods and waters that beneath thee rest, With Night's dark shadows on thy peaceful breast — Oh, I do love thee ! but the most, sweet moon, In the still hour of midnight's sacred noon ; Calm then are spirits that with day have striven, And Earth's repose seems kin to that of Heaven. We have...
Page 48 - answer thou When is the hour of death ; ' A holy calm was on his brow, And peaceful was his breath ; And sweetly o'er his features stole A smile, a light divine ; He spake the language of his soul, ' My Master's time is mine !
Page 47 - Not yet! not yet:" the child replied, And swiftly bounded by. I asked...
Page 47 - ' Not yet ! not yet ! ' the child replied, And swiftly bounded by. I...
Page 284 - The silver moon and golden sun? No warden's fire shall e'er again Illume Loch Leven's bosom fair, Nor clarion shrill of armored men The breeze across the lake shall bear. But while remains a stone of thine, It shall be linked to royal fame, For there a Rose of Stuart's line Hath left the fragrance of her name.
Page 47 - I asked a mother, as she pressed Her first-born in her arms, As gently on her tender breast She hushed her babe's alarms; In quivering tones her answer came, — Her eyes were dim with tears : " My boy his mother's life must claim For many, many years.
Page 186 - Shall idols your altars most sacred defile ? Shall foul, blackened falsehood unanswered be borne, And Americans branded with insult and scorn ? Truth, where is thy shame, and Religion, thy power. And Freedom, thy bravery fled in this hour? DENIAL OF THE CUP TO THE LAITY. 241 Arouse ye, arouse ye, O men of the North ! Let the South send her champions fearlessly forth, And the East and the west, let them gird on the sword, And away to the strife in the might of the Lord. Strike ! strike for the country,...
Page 276 - CHRIST IS LEFT. LET the winds of sorrow blow Roughly o'er this track of mine, Let the fount of grief o'erflow, Hope's sweet star forbear to shine. Though of every comfort shorn, Though of every joy bereft ; Weak, defenceless, and forlorn, — I am rich — if Christ is left.

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