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abolitionists arms asked Aylmere beauty Bobn BOBOLINK bondman Born called captain character child Christian church cold Colonel Croton Deacon dead death Died earth England eyes face father fear feel feet folks force friends genius give halyards hand head hear heard heart heaven hope Horace Greeley horse hour Huldy human Jack Cade Jefferson Davis knew labor lady liberty light lips living look Margaret Fuller Ossoli Mariamne Mass mind moral mother nation nature never night o'er once party Peckham poor round sail Saladin seemed Shakespeare shore singing slave slavery smile soul spirit Sprowle Stone Fleet stood sweet tell thee things thou thought tion took trees truth turned voice walked whole William the Silent wind words wuzzled young
Page 3 - AY, tear her tattered ensign down! -£^- Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar;— The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more! Her deck, once red with heroes...
Page 29 - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main, — The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.
Page 508 - O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain!
Page 488 - His truth is marching on. I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps; I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel; "As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, Since God is marching on.
Page 432 - THE snow had begun in the gloaming, And busily all the night Had been heaping field and highway With a silence deep and white. Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, And the poorest twig on the elm-tree Was ridged inch deep with pearl.
Page 546 - The muffled drum's sad roll has beat The soldier's last tattoo; No more on life's parade shall meet That brave and fallen few. On Fame's eternal camping ground * Their silent tents are spread, And Glory guards, with solemn round, The bivouac of the dead.
Page 500 - A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
Page 502 - What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death...
Page 413 - The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest, — In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best...