The Female Poets of America |
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Page 29
... breast The sensibilities by God exprest ; Nor shall the mollifying hand of Time , Which wipes off common sorrows , cancel mine . From this time a pensive melancholy took the place of the quiet gayety that had pre- viously distinguished ...
... breast The sensibilities by God exprest ; Nor shall the mollifying hand of Time , Which wipes off common sorrows , cancel mine . From this time a pensive melancholy took the place of the quiet gayety that had pre- viously distinguished ...
Page 36
... breast ; And his sunk eyes were fixed on the ground Half shut , and o'er his bosom streamed his beard , Hoary and long . I twice accosted him Ere he regarded me ; then , looking up , He eyed me with a vague and senseless gaze , And ...
... breast ; And his sunk eyes were fixed on the ground Half shut , and o'er his bosom streamed his beard , Hoary and long . I twice accosted him Ere he regarded me ; then , looking up , He eyed me with a vague and senseless gaze , And ...
Page 44
... breast , Rage on - thou mayst destroy this form , And lay it low at rest ; But still the spirit that now brooks Thy tempest , raging high , Uudaunted on its fury looks , With steadfast eye . I said to Penury's meagre train , Come on ...
... breast , Rage on - thou mayst destroy this form , And lay it low at rest ; But still the spirit that now brooks Thy tempest , raging high , Uudaunted on its fury looks , With steadfast eye . I said to Penury's meagre train , Come on ...
Page 46
... breast Has let its little eyelids close , The mother bears below to rest , And sinks with it in sweet repose . The while a sailor climbs the shroud , And in the distance spies a cloud : Low , like a swelling seed , it lies , From which ...
... breast Has let its little eyelids close , The mother bears below to rest , And sinks with it in sweet repose . The while a sailor climbs the shroud , And in the distance spies a cloud : Low , like a swelling seed , it lies , From which ...
Page 47
... breast reclines , Has thrown aside his favorite toy , And round his tender finger twines Those scattered locks , that , with the flight Of fourscore years , are snowy white ; And , as a scar arrests his view , He cries , " Grandpa ...
... breast reclines , Has thrown aside his favorite toy , And round his tender finger twines Those scattered locks , that , with the flight Of fourscore years , are snowy white ; And , as a scar arrests his view , He cries , " Grandpa ...
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amid angels Anne Eliza Bleecker Anthemius beams beauty Belisarius beneath bird bless bloom blossoms bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow cheek child clouds cold dark daugh dear death deep doth dream earth Eudocia eyes fair fear feel flowers FRANCES SARGENT OSGOOD gaze gentle gleam gloom glorious glory glow golden grace Graham's Magazine grief hand hast hath hear heart heaven holy hope hour life's light linger lips lone look Love's lute lyre melody morning morocco mother murmur neath never night o'er pale poems prayer Pulcheria pure rapture rest rills round seraph shade shadows shine sigh silent sing skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stars stream sunbeams sweet tears tempest tender thee thine thou art thought thrill throne tone tree trembling Turkey voice wandering waves weary wild winds wings young youth
Popular passages
Page 394 - Encyclopaedia of Chemistry, Practical and Theoretical : Embracing its application to the Arts, Metallurgy, Mineralogy, Geology, Medicine and Pharmacy. By JAMES C. BOOTH, Melter and Refiner in the United States Mint, Professor of Applied Chemistry in the Franklin Institute, etc., assisted by CAMPBELL MORFIT, author of " Chemical Manipulations,
Page 62 - MY boy, thou wilt dream the world is fair, And thy spirit will sigh to roam ; And thou must go ; but never, when there, Forget the light of home. Though pleasure may smile with a ray more bright, It dazzles to lead astray : Like the meteor's flash, 'twill deepen the night, When thou treadest the lonely way. But the hearth of home has a constant flame, And pure as vestal fire : 'Twill burn, 'twill burn, for ever the same, For nature feeds the pyre.
Page 48 - But he did one thing that was hardly fair — He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there That all had forgotten for him to prepare. "Now, just to set them a-thinking, I'll bite this basket of fruit...
Page 362 - I once had a little brother With eyes that were dark and deep : In the lap of that old dim forest He lieth in peace asleep ; Light as the down of the thistle, Free as the winds that blow, We roved there the beautiful summers, The summers of long ago ; But his feet on the hills grew weary, And one of the autumn eves I made for my little brother A bed of the yellow leaves.
Page 50 - And soon in the earth she sunk away From the comfortless spot where the Pebble lay. But it was not long ere the soil was broke By the peering head of an infant oak ! And as it arose and its branches spread, The Pebble looked up, and wondering said : — " A modest Acorn ! never to tell What was enclosed in its simple shell...
Page 321 - The twilight hours, like birds, flew by, As lightly and as free ; Ten thousand stars were in the sky, Ten thousand on the sea ; For every wave with dimpled face, That leaped upon the air, Had caught a star in its embrace, And held it trembling there.
Page 20 - I once that loved the shady woods so well, Now thought the rivers did the trees excel, And if the sun would ever shine, there would I dwell.
Page 267 - Labor is rest — from the sorrows that greet us, Rest from all petty vexations that meet us, Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us, Rest from world-sirens that lure us to ill.
Page 204 - COULD have stemmed misfortune's tide, And borne the rich one's sneer, Have braved the haughty glance of pride, Nor shed a single tear. I could have smiled on every blow From life's full quiver thrown, While I might gaze on thee, and know I should not be
Page 50 - Whose head is towering toward the sky, Above such a worthless thing as I ! Useless and vain, a cumberer here, I have been idling from year to year. But never from this shall a vaunting word From the humbled Pebble again be heard, Till something without me or within Shall show the purpose for which I've been ?" The Pebble its vow could not forget, And it lies there wrapt in silence yet.