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Page 170 - 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 168 - 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 75 - Oft in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me: The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken!
Page 139 - No, the heart that has truly lov'd never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close, As the sun-flower turns on her god, when he sets, The same look which she turn'd when he rose.
Page 137 - LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM. OH ! the days are gone when Beauty bright My heart's chain wove ; When my dream of life from morn till night Was love, still love. New hope may bloom, And days may come Of milder, calmer beam, But there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream : No, there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream.
Page 138 - BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Like fairy-gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still.
Page 171 - ... 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 ?— They sought a faith's pure shrine ! Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod ! They have left unstain'd what there they found— Freedom to worship God.
Page 183 - Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.