An American Anthology, 1787-1900: Selections Illustrating the Editor's Critical Review of American Poetry in the Nineteenth Century
Edmund Clarence Stedman
Houghton, Mifflin, 1900 - American poetry - 878 pages
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Annabel Lee art thou Auf wiedersehen beauty bells Ben Bolt beneath bird bloom blow bobolink brave breast breath bright brow cardinal bird child cloud dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth eyes face fair fear feet flame flowers glory glow golden grass grave gray green hand hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill Israfel Joseph Rodman Drake Kingston Bridge kiss Kree land light lips live lonely look Lord lyre mighty moon morning neath never nevermore night o'er pass peace Poems poet rapture rose round sail shadow shine shore sigh silent sing skies sleep smile snow soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stars strong summer sweet tears tell tempest thee thine things thou art thought tree verse voice wave weary wild wind wings wood York City
Page 112 - Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act, — act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o'erhead! Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us, Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Page 53 - To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware.
Page 151 - The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me ; Yes ! that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
Page 154 - Her deck once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee ; — The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea...
Page 16 - O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming! And the rockets...
Page 16 - O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave! And where is that band who so vauntingly swore That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion A home and a country should leave us no more? Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps
Page 149 - Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow (This — all this — was in the olden Time long ago), And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A winged odor went away.
Page 93 - If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. Far or forgot to me is near; Shadow and sunlight are the same; The vanished gods to me appear; And one to me are shame and fame.