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LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - Fledgist - LibraryThing
This is a collection that should be dipped into, read carefully, and truly savoured. Longfellow was probably the best American poet of the nineteenth century. Read full review
Acadian Angel answered arrows beautiful behold bell beneath birds Bons amis breath bright Charlemagne Chispa cloud cried Dacotahs dark dead death door dreams earth Eginhard EPIMETHEUS eyes face fair feet fire flowers forest forever gazed gleam golden guests Gypsy hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha John Alden Kenabeek King Olaf land Lara Laughing Water leaves light listen look loud maiden MANAHEM meadows Miles Standish mist Mondamin moon morning mountains nevermore night o'er Osseo PANDORA passed Pau-Puk-Keewis paused Pray prayer Prec Pree PROMETHEUS river rose round rushing sails sang shadow shining ships Sigrid the Haughty silent singing sleep smile snow song Song of Hiawatha soul sound spake stars stood sunshine sweet tale thee thou art thought town unto Vict village voice wait walls wampum whispered wigwam wild wind wonder words youth
Page 129 - Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate! We know what Master laid thy keel, 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!
Page 129 - Tis of the wave and not the rock ; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore. Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with th.ee.
Page 18 - The village smithy stands ; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 18 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
Page 84 - THE ARROW AND THE SONG. I SHOT an arrow into the air, It fell to earth I knew not where ; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song ! Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke ; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.
Page 258 - Chasing the red-coats down the lane, Then crossing the fields to emerge again Under the trees at the turn of the road, And only pausing to fire and load. So through the night rode Paul Revere; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm, A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo forevermore!
Page 80 - And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Page 237 - MY LOST YOUTH. OFTEN I think of the beautiful town That is seated by the sea : Often in thought go up and down The pleasant streets of that dear old town, And my youth comes back to me, And a verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still : " A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.
Page 133 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted ! Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors ; Amid these earthly damps, What...
Page 129 - Then the master, With a gesture of command, Waved his hand ; And, at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard, All around them and below, The sound of hammers, blow on blow, Knocking away the shores and spurs. And see ! she stirs ! She starts ! she moves ! she seems to feel The thrill of life along her keel! And, spurning with her foot the ground, With one exulting, joyous bound She leaps into the ocean's arms ! And, lo!