The Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier

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Houghton, Osgood, 1879 - 434 Seiten
 

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LibraryThing Review

Nutzerbericht  - DanielSTJ - LibraryThing

This was an interesting series of poems. While they are archaic, some of the language possesses a fervent expression of poetical poise that brings the work up as a whole. There are numerous good lines ... Vollständige Rezension lesen

LibraryThing Review

Nutzerbericht  - sallylou61 - LibraryThing

This collection is a selection of Whittier's poetry. It is divided into five sections: "Prophet of the Republic" (social reform, especially in relation to slavery), "The Warming Haze of Yesterday ... Vollständige Rezension lesen

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Seite 317 - And so beside the Silent Sea I wait the muffled oar ; No harm from Him can come to me On ocean or on shore. I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air ; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.
Seite 285 - Unwarmed by any sunset light The gray day darkened into night A night made hoary with the swarm And whirl-dance of the blinding storm, As zigzag, wavering to and fro, Crossed and recrossed the winged snow: And ere the early bedtime came The white drift piled the window-frame, And through the glass the clothes-line posts Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts.
Seite 203 - He would dress me up in silks so fine, And praise and toast me at his wine. "My father should wear a broadcloth coat; My brother should sail a painted boat...
Seite 55 - Gone, gone, — sold and gone, To the rice-swamp dank and lone. From Virginia's hills and waters ; Woe is me, my stolen daughters ! Gone, gone, — sold and gone, To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Seite 224 - Here is the place; right over the hill Runs the path I took; You can see the gap in the old wall still, And the stepping-stones in the shallow brook. There is the house, with the gate red-barred, And the poplars tall; And the barn's brown length, and the cattle-yard, And the white horns tossing above the wall. There are the beehives ranged in the sun ; And down by the brink Of the brook are her poor flowers, weed-o'errun, Pansy and daffodil, rose and pink. A year has gone, as the tortoise goes Heavy...
Seite 119 - Prompt to please her master; And the begging carlin, late Fed and clothed at Ury's gate, Cursed him as he passed her. Yet, with calm and stately mien, Up the streets of Aberdeen Came he slowly riding: And, to all he saw and heard, Answering not with bitter word, Turning not for chiding. Came a troop with broadswords swinging, Bits and bridles sharply ringing, Loose and free and froward; Quoth the foremost, "Ride him down! Push him! prick him! through the town Drive the Quaker coward!
Seite 194 - Where the wood-grape's clusters shine; Of the black wasp's cunning way, Mason of his walls of clay, And the architectural plans Of gray hornet artisans ! — For, eschewing books and tasks, Nature answers all he asks; Hand in hand with her he walks, Face to face with her he talks...
Seite 421 - Though fallen thyself, never to rise again, Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind Powers that will work for thee; air, earth, and skies; There's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee; thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.
Seite 203 - A form more fair, a face more sweet, Ne'er hath it been my lot to meet. " And her modest answer and graceful air Show her wise and good as she is fair. " Would she were mine, and I to-day, Like her, a harvester of hay; " No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs, Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues, " But low of cattle and song of birds, And health and quiet and loving words.
Seite 319 - Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord, What may thy service be ? — Nor name, nor form, nor ritual word, But simply following thee.

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