Occasional Pieces of Poetry

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E. Bliss and E. White, 1825 - American poetry - 111 pages

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Page 5 - flood to chronicle the ages back, And notch His cent'ries in the eternal rocks. Deep calleth unto deep. And what are we, That hear the question of that voice sublime ? Oh ! what are all the notes that ever rung From war's vain trumpet, by thy thundering side! Yea, what is all the riot man can make
Page 5 - thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain, While I look upward to thee. It would seem As if God pour'd thee from his " hollow hand," And hung his bow upon thine awful front; And spoke in that loud voice, which seem'd to him Who dwelt in Patmos for his Saviour's sake,
Page 5 - his short life, to thy unceasing roar! And yet, bold babbler, what art thou to Him, Who drown'da world, and heap'd the waters far Above its loftiest mountains ?—a light wave, That breaks, and whispers of its Maker's might. MATCHIT MOODUS. A
Page 104 - deer, And the thirsty shall drink of the holy stream. And the parched ground shall become a pool, And the thirsty land a
Page 77 - There's beauty in the deep : The wave is bluer than the sky; And though the lights shine bright on high, More softly do the sea-gems glow That sparkle in the depths below ; The rainbow's tints are only made When on the waters they are laid,
Page 106 - The bright blue sky above him, and that bends Magnificently all the forest's pride, Or whispers through the evergreens, and asks, " What is there sadd'ning in the Autumn leaves ?" WRITTEN IN A COMMON-PLACE BOOK. See to your book, young lady ; let it be An index to your life—each page be pure, By vanity
Page 14 - EPITHALAMIUM. I saw two clouds at morning, Ting'd with the rising sun ; And in the dawn they floated on, And mingled into one : I thought that morning cloud was blest. I saw two summer currents, Flow smoothly to their meeting, And join their course, with silent force, In peace each other greeting : Calm was their course through banks of green, While dimpling eddies
Page 74 - cord—is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze." Another ! 'tis a sad word to the heart, That one by one has lost its hold on life, From all it
Page 85 - By mossy bank, and darkly waving wood, By rock, that since the deluge fix'd has stood, Showing to sun and moon their crisping flood By night and day. But yet, there's something in its humble rank, Something in its pure wave and sloping bank, Where the deer sported, and the young fawn drank With unscar'd look

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