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answered beautiful bell better birds blue boat bull child Christmas close cold comes dark dead dear Death Dialogue don't door Dora eyes face fall father flowers folks give grave Gray hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven hill Jean John keep kind King land light live look Lord mind morning mother mule nature never night once passed Paul played poor Prayer rest Ring river rock rose School seemed side sing sleep Song soon soul sound speak Speech stand Story sweet tears tell thank thee there's thet thing thou thought told took tree true turned voice wait wife wind wonder young
Seite 148 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Seite 10 - ... twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve, the censure of which one must in your allowance o'erweigh a whole theatre of others.
Seite 149 - Came thro' the jaws of Death Back from the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.
Seite 96 - Thou, too, sail on. O Ship of State ! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great ! Humanity, with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate...
Seite 100 - And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
Seite 139 - BY the flow of the inland river, Whence the fleets of iron have fled, Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver Asleep are the ranks of the dead; — Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; — Under the one, the Blue; Under the other, the Gray.
Seite 156 - Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away.
Seite 148 - I have but one request to ask at my departure from this world: it is - the charity of its silence. Let no man write my epitaph; for as no man who knows my motives dare now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them and me rest in obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain uninscribed, and my memory in oblivion, until other times and other men can do justice to my character. When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph...
Seite 105 - THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.