The Poets of Maine: A Collection of Specimen Poems from Over Four Hundred Verse-makers of the Pine-tree StateGeorge Bancroft Griffith Elwell, Pickard, 1888 - 856 pages |
Table des matières
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Autres éditions - Tout afficher
The Poets of Maine: A Collection of Specimen Poems from Over Four Hundred ... George Bancroft Griffith Affichage du livre entier - 1888 |
The Poets of Maine: A Collection of Specimen Poems from Over Four Hundred ... George Bancroft Griffith Affichage du livre entier - 1888 |
The Poets of Maine: A Collection of Specimen Poems from Over Four Hundred ... George Bancroft Griffith Affichage du livre entier - 1888 |
Expressions et termes fréquents
auld lang syne Bangor beauty beneath Biddeford bird bless bloom born Boston Bowdoin College breast breath breeze Bridgton bright brow Buckfield Casco Bay Church clouds Congregational Church dark dead dear death deep died dream earth East Machias eyes fair father feet flowers friends glad gleam glory glow golden grace graduated grave hand happy hath hear heart heaven Hebron Academy hills hope hour hymn Kittery land life's light lips literary living Loch Oich lonely look Maine married Mass morning mother mountain neath never night nom de plume Norridgewock o'er Parsonsfield peace poems poet Portland Transcript prayer published rest School Seba Smith shadows shining shore sigh silent sing skies sleep smile snow song sorrow soul spirit stars summer sweet tears tender thee thine thou thought verse voice Waterville waves weary wild winds wing youth
Fréquemment cités
Page 122 - Let mortal tongues awake; Let all that breathe partake; Let rocks their silence break. The sound prolong. Our fathers' God! to thee, Author of liberty, To thee we sing; Long may our land be bright With freedom's holy light; Protect us by Thy might, Great God, our King! THE
Page 122 - LIGHT IS BREAKING. The morning light is breaking; The darkness disappears: The sons of earth are waking To penitential tears; Each breeze that sweeps the ocean Brings tidings from afar. Of nations in commotion, Prepared for Zion's war. See heathen nations bending Before the God we love, And thousand hearts ascending In gratitude above;
Page 99 - verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still: " A boy's will is the wind's will. And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts/' 1 can see the shadowy lines of its trees, And catch, in sudden gleams. The sheen Of the far-surrounding seas. And islands that were the
Page 401 - shrink at thought of all these passing years! So few are gone—so many yet remaining— How can I choose but count them through my tears? But do not fear that though I now am weeping, No glorious lesson by thy strength is taught: "LET NOT HIM THAT GIRDETH ON HIS HARNESS BOAST HIMSELF AS HE THAT PUTTETH IT OFF.
Page 100 - in battle died. And the sound of that mournful song Goes through me with a thrill: " A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I can see the breezy dome of groves, The shadows of Deering's woods; And the friendships old
Page 101 - my lost youth again. And the strange and beautiful song, The groves are repeating it still: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." THE ROPE-WALK. In that building, long and low, With its windows all a-row, Like the
Page 474 - Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years! I am so weary of toil and of tears,— Toil without recompense, tears all in vain.— Take them, and give me my childhood again! I have grown weary of dust and decay,— Weary of Hinging my soul-wealth away; Weary of sowing for others to reap;— Rock me to sleep,
Page 122 - Blest river of salvation! Pursue thine onward way; Flow thou to every nation. Nor in thy richness stay; Stay not till all the lowly Triumphant reach their home; Stay not till all the holy Proclaim—"The Lord is come!"
Page 244 - thy quickening life To nerve my faltering will; Thy presence fills my solitude, Thy providence turns all to good. Embosomed in Thy patient love, Held in Thy law, I stand; Thy hand in all things I behold, And all tilings in Thy hand. Thou leadest me by unsought ways, And turn'st my mourning
Page 142 - crushed to earth Full many a budding flower, Which, had a smile but owned its birth, Would bless life's darkest hour. Then deem it not an idle thing, A pleasant word to speak; The face you wear, the thoughts you bring, A heart may heal or break,