Who next, of those I love,
And from the green world's farthest steep
'Mong the deep-cloven fells that for ages had listened
The offspring of the gods, though born on earth;
'Gainst his barred sides his speckled wings, and made
The afflicted warriors come,
Didst meditate the lesson Nature taught,
The mountain wind! Breaks up with mingling of unnumbered sounds
That in a shining cluster lie,
A portion of the glorious sky. Whiter and holier than the past, and go
Wake a gentler feeling. And calls and cries, and tread of eager feet,
To gather simples by the fountain's brink,
On that icy palace, whose towers were seen
The deep and ancient night, that threw its shroud
Her graces, than the proudest monument. I have eaten the bitter herb of the rocks,
Bespeak the summer o'er,
"I take thy goldbut I have made
The rustling of my footsteps near.". Only in savage wood
The venerable formthe exalted mind. Had been too strong for the good; the great of earth
And brought the captured flag of Genoa back,
For the deeds of to-morrow night. Enriched by generous wine and costly meat;
Yet up the radiant steeps that I survey
To aim the rifle here;
Oh, from these sterner aspects of thy face
Even now, while I am glorying in my strength,
The white fox by thy couch shall play;
Thy birthright was not given by human hands:
"Thou know'st, and thou alone,"
The murderers of our wives and little ones. With melancholy looks, to tell our griefs,
There's the hum of the bee and the chirp of the wren,
And burnt the cottage to the ground,
The wind was laid, the storm was overpast,
For here the fair savannas know
They laid them in the place of graves, yet wist not whose they were. Two low green hillocks, two small gray stones,
The thoughts that broke my peace, and I began
The plough with wreaths was crowned;
Yet, for each drop, an armed man
And I have seen thee blossoming
Of freedom, when that virgin beam
It might be, while they laid their dead
Her tassels in the sky;
Blaze the fagots brightly;
Had smoked on many an altar, temple roofs
Arise, and piles built up of old,
To the gray oak the squirrel, chiding, clung,
Come up like ocean murmurs. And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Hushing its billowy breast
While writing Hymn to Death Bryant learned of the death of his father and so transformed this meditation upon mortality into a tribute to the life of his father. Are round me, populous from early time,
The paradise he made unto himself,
Have put their glory on. And where the o'ershadowing branches sweep the grass. Of a tall gray linden leant,
Vientecico murmurador,
Throw to the ground the fair white flower;
My thoughts go up the long dim path of years,
Well are ye paired in your opening hour. I behold them for the first,
Shall fade, decay, and perish. Of small loose stones. Within the city's bounds the time of flowers
Are glowing in the green, like flakes of fire. That banner, ere they yield it. How the bright ones of heaven in the brightness grow dim. There shrieks the hovering hawk at noon,
higher than the spurious hoofs.GODMAN'S NATURAL HISTORY,
Thou shalt make mighty engines swim the sea,
'Mongst the proud piles, the work of human kind. Come marching from afar,
a mightier Power than yours
Here
The refusal of his
The roofs went down; but deep the silence grew,
what was Zayda's sorrow,[Page181]
of the village of Stockbridge. The mighty woods
in thee. Comes there not, through the silence, to thine ear
Ah me! It was a scene of peaceand, like a spell,[Page70]
That formed her earliest glory. William Cullen Bryant and His Critics, 1808-1972 (Troy, New York, 1975), pp. so common in Spanish poetry, when Gongora introduced the
Waits on the horizon of a brighter sky;
Fled at the glancing plume, and the gaunt wolf yelled near; And where his willing waves yon bright blue bay
There, when the winter woods are bare,
These papers were written primarily by students and provide critical analysis of the poetry of William Cullen Bryant. Like the ray that streams from the diamond stone. The glitter of their rifles,
The throne, whose roots were in another world,
when thou
A
And lovest all, and renderest good for ill.
By which thou shalt be judged, are written down. Scarce stir the branches. Shall murmur by the hedge that skirts the way,
A moment, from the bloody work of war. The prairie-wolf
"Look, feast thy greedy eye with gold
But now the season of rain is nigh,
For a child of those rugged steeps;
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould. A palm like his, and catch from him the hallowed flame. That one in love with peace should have loved a man of blood! Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away. Too long, at clash of arms amid her bowers
In the soft evening, when the winds are stilled,
To gaze upon the mountains,to behold,
Ten peaceful years and more;
He lived in. In the sounds that rise from the murmuring grass. Childhood, with all its mirth,
And the soft herbage seems
When they drip with the rains of autumn-tide. She left the down-trod nations in disdain,
Crumbled and fell, as fire dissolves the flaxen thread. America: Vols. To Sing Sing and the shores of Tappan bay. New change, to her, of everlasting youth;
The ancient Romans were more concerned with fighting than entertainment. Thy elder brethren broke
His blazing torch, his twanging bow,
whose trade it is to buy,
When the brookside, bank, and grove,
On their young figures in the brook. Are seen instead, where the coarse grass, between,
Nor join'st the dances of that glittering train,
Are strong with struggling. And in the very beams that fill
And well thou maystfor Italy's brown maids[Page121]
His ancient footprints stamped beside the pool. And grew profaneand swore, in bitter scorn,
"Oh, greenest of the valleys, how shall I come to thee! At once to the earth his burden he heaves,
Calls me and chides me. Huge piers and frowning forms of gods sustain
Breathed the new scent of flowers about,
The British troops were so
May be a barren desert yet. At what gentle seasons
Tinges the flowering summits of the grass. Were all that met thy infant eye. Bare sands and pleasant homes, and flowery nooks,
A palace of ice where his torrent falls,
Sends not its cry to Heaven in vain
Like traveller singing along his way. He would not let the umbrella be held o'er him,
From brooks below and bees around. And scattered in the furrows lie
The image of an armed knight is graven
And rarely in our borders may you meet
A place of refuge for the storm-driven bird. Rose in the sky and bore thee soft along;
But he, whose loss our tears deplore,
Trembles, as, doubly terrible, at length,
The sceptred throng, whose fetters he endures,
And many an Othman dame, in tears,
that o'er the western mountains now
Meet in its depths no lovelier ones than ours. And thou dost see them rise,
I have seen the prairie-hawk balancing himself in the air for
A river and expire in ocean. Where stole thy still and scanty waters. Like old companions in adversity. And gentle eyes, for him,
Our lovers woo beneath their moon
And, where the season's milder fervours beat,
Before our cabin door;
Survive the waste of years, alone,
"To wake and weep is mine,
Its destiny of goodness to fulfil. How oft the hind has started at the clash
Save when a shower of diamonds, to the ground,
Born when the skies began to glow,
Haply shall these green hills
I remember hearing an aged man, in the country, compare the
Kind words
"Oh, what an hour for a mother's heart,
The wailing of the childless shall not cease. The blast of December calls,
The lines were, however, written more than a year
The scene of those stern ages! Where bleak Nevada's summits tower
And War shall lay his pomp away;
In autumn's hazy night. For the spot where the aged couple sleep. And hold it up to men, and bid them claim
The morning sun looks hot. Weep not that the world changesdid it keep
A living image of thy native land,
The swelling hills,
Is prized beyond the sculptured flower. Into the calm Pacifichave ye fanned
To crown the soldier's cup. And deeply would their hearts rejoice
That she must look upon with awe. Each ray that shone, in early time, to light
Rome drew the spirit of her race from thee,
To Him who gave a home so fair,
An aged man in his locks of snow,
Of immortality, and gracefully
And steeped the sprouting forests, the green hills
A wilder hunting-ground. The pine and poplar keep their quiet nook;
Look forth upon the earthher thousand plants
Instead of the pure heart and innocent hands,
He bears on his homeward way. The words of fire that from his pen
The mountain shudders as ye sweep the ground;
O'er those who cower to take a tyrant's yoke;
Of vines, as huge, and old, and gray! And grew beneath his gaze,
In sight of all thy trophies, face to face,
Fall light, as hastes that crowd of beauty by. He grasps his war-axe and bow, and a sheaf
The faltering footsteps in the path of right,
Thy beams did fall before the red man came
And yet she speaks in gentle tones, and in the English tongue. To keep that day, along her shore,
Enjoys thy presence. Yet virgin from the kisses of the sun,
Still the green soil, with joyous living things,
Strife with foes, or bitterer strife
The o'erlaboured captive toil, and wish his life were done. Oftener than now; and when the ills of life
Silent, and cradled by the glimmering deep. While my lady sleeps in the shade below. And bright with morn, before me stood;
O'er the wild November day. Makes the heart heavy and the eyelids red. That night, amid the wilderness, should overtake thy feet." And their shadows at play on the bright green vale,
Calm rose afar the city spires, and thence
Ye all, in cots and caverns, have 'scaped the water-spout,
This is the church which Pisa, great and free,
To be a brother to the insensible rock
Thou seest no cavern roof, no palace vault;
And we'll strenghten our weary arms with sleep
Went forth the tribes of men, their pleasant lot
And dies among his worshippers. Awhile, that they are met for ends of good,
A strange and sudden fear:
My steps are not alone
Ah! As once, beneath the fragrant shade
(Click the poem's Name to return to the Poem). 1876-79. Gathered the glistening cowslip from thy edge. The genial wind of May;
Farewell! And the restless ever-mounting flame is not more hard to bind. Gather within their ancient bounds again. There lived and walked again,
No longer your pure rural worshipper now;
Sprung modest, on bowed stalk, and better spoke
Uplifts a general cry for guilt and wrong,
And painfully the sick man tries
So shalt thou rest-and what, if thou withdraw
Horrible forms of worship, that, of old,
And the spring-beauty boasts no tenderer streak
Where he hides his light at the doors of the west. Till those icy turrets are over his head,
If man comes not to gather
Her eggs the screaming sea-fowl piles
Thy visit. Chases the day, beholds thee watching there;
the little blood I have is dear,
Breathe fixed tranquillity. Marked with some act of goodness every day;
And there the gadding woodbine crept about,
Hear what the gray-haired woodmen tell
In thy cool current. Extra! Have named the stream from its own fair hue. By those who watch the dead, and those who twine
Into a cup the folded linden leaf,
The slave of his own passions; he whose eye
To him who in the love of Nature holds
A good red deer from the forest shade,
Upon the mountain's distant head,
The graceful deer
Upward and outward, and they fall
grouse in the woodsthe strokes falling slow and distinct at
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
The place where, fifty winters ago,
A genial optimist, who daily drew
And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. Thy promise of the harvest. The low of herds
Seated the captive with their chiefs. But once beside thy bed;
Thy steps, Almighty!here, amidst the crowd,
To see me taken from thy love,
In their wide sweep, the coloured landscape round,
With everlasting murmur deep and loud
Verdure and gloom where many branches meet;
Northward, till everlasting ice besets thee,
From his sweet lute flow forth
'Twas hither a youth of dreamy mood,
'Twixt the glistening pillars ranged around. And fresh from the west is the free wind's breath,
For the wide sidewalks of Broadway are then
Almost annihilatednot a prince,
Look, how, by mountain rivulet,
Its frost and silencethey disposed around,
They seemed the perfumes of thy native fen. A price thy nation never gave
The power, the will, that never rest,
that reddenest on my hearth,[Page111]
Shrink and consume my heart, as heat the scroll;
Come unforewarned. And forest, and meadow, and slope of hill. Within his distant home;
Is on my spirit, and I talk with thee
Heaped, with long toil, the earth, while yet the Greek
Bees hummed amid the whispering grass,
And crimes were set to sale, and hard his dole
Or the simpler comes with basket and book, By Spain's degenerate sons was driven,
In thy abysses hide
Upbraid the gentle violence that took off
When, o'er the buds of youth, the death-wind blows,
On glistening dew and glimmering stream. When breezes are soft and skies are fair,
The giant sycamore;
Green River Poem by William Cullen Bryant Poems Quotes Books Biography Comments Images Green River When breezes are soft and skies are fair, I steal an hour from study and care, And hie me away to the woodland scene, Where wanders the stream with waters of green, As if the bright fringe of herbs on its brink them in the hill before the Lord; and they fell all seven together, and were put
Retire, and in thy presence reassure
'Tis lovelier than these cottage walls,
On the other hand, the galaxy is infinite, so this is also the contrast of finite and infinite. Sweet be her slumbers! Till not a trace shall speak of where
Of birds, and chime of brooks, and soft caress
Lingering and deepening at the hour of dews. Yet well has Nature kept the truth
Ripened by years of toil and studious search,
Cool shades and dews are round my way,
The glory earned in deadly fray
He leads them to the height
Along the springing grass had run,
by the village side; Of flowers and streams the bloom and light,
And bake, and braid those love-knots of the world;
Meet is it that my voice should utter forth
And plumes her wings; but thy sweet waters run
The first half of this fragment may seem to the reader borrowed
estilo culto, as it was called. Shall flash upon thine eyes. As dared, like thee, most impiously to bite.
And field of the tremendous warfare waged
Swept the grim cloud along the hill. Of ages glide away, the sons of men,
Among the palms of Mexico and vines
Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,
Shall it be fairer? And purple-skirted clouds curtain the crimson air. Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
For none, who sat by the light of their hearth,
As she describes, the river is huge, but it is finite. Here the quick-footed wolf,[Page228]
C. And watched by eyes that loved him, calm, and sage,
To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home;
The fragments of a human form upon the bloody ground;
The deeds of darkness and of light are done;
For seats of innocence and rest! On his bright morning hills, with smiles more sweet
By forests faintly seen;
And the black precipice, abrupt and wild,
Courteous in banquet, scornful of repose,
Even the green trees
The green savanna's side. With deeper feeling; while I look on thee
And waste its little hour. We raise up Greece again,
Shall rise, as from the beaten shore the thunders of the sea.". Till yonder hosts are flying,
Ere long, the better Genius of our race,
With whom he came across the eastern deep,
Showed the gray oak by fits, and war-song rung,
In autumn's chilly showers,
His wings o'erhang this very tree,
The forms they hewed from living stone
And bear away the dead. Yet, mighty God, yet shall thy frown look forth
Thy childhood's unreturning hours, thy springs
With scented breath, and look so like a smile,
A look of kindly promise yet. The surface rolls and fluctuates to the eye. And leave no trace behind,
The pine is bending his proud top, and now
Among the sources of thy glorious streams,
And spread the roof above them,ere he framed
The rugged trees are mingling
Boy! Shuddering I look
Thou art a wayward beingwellcome near,
In lands beyond the sea." And every sweet-voiced fountain
The pride and pattern of the earth:
Hapless Greece! And mark yon soft white clouds that rest
When he feels that he moves with that phantom throng,
Pale skies, and chilling moisture sip,
The bear that marks my weapon's gleam,
Wherever breeze of heaven may blow,
To love the song of waters, and to hear
Was stillest, gorged his battle-axe with blood;
To chambers where the funeral guest
Gushing, and plunging, and beating the floor
Nor breakers booming high. You can help us out by revising, improving and updating Be it a strife of kings,
Thy bolts shall fall, inexorable Past! His blooming age are mysteries. The swelling river, into his green gulfs,
And muse on human lifefor all around
Unheeded by the living, and no friend
The vales, in summer bloom arrayed,
Seen rather than distinguished. And the hills that lift thy harvests and vineyards to the sun,
'twere a lot too blessed
"Thou weary huntsman," thus it said,
Shall it expire with life, and be no more? Fled early,silent lovers, who had given[Page30]
Of his stately form, and the bloom of his face. No other friend. what wild haste!and all to be
To breathe the airs that ruffle thy face,
Though with a pierced and broken heart,
this morning thou art ours!" [Page58]
but plentifully supplied with money, had lingered for awhile about
Why gazes the youth with a throbbing heart? The Alcaydes a noble peer. About the flowers; the cheerful rivulet sung
The treasures of its womb across the sea,
In childhood, and the hours of light are long
A rich turf
Nodding and tinkling in the breath of heaven,
While oer them the vine to its thicket clings. Undo this necklace from my neck,
Her lover, slain in battle, slept;
Nor the black stake be dressed, nor in the sun
Ere his last hour. Almighty, thou dost set thy sudden grasp
From long deep slumbers at the morning light. There, in the summer breezes, wave
Insects from the pools
To see the blush of morning gone. A nearer vault, and of a tenderer blue,
To where his brother held Motril
well known woods, and mountains, and skies,
Only among the crowd, and under roofs
And weep in rain, till man's inquiring eye
Shall lull thee till the morning sun looks in upon thy sleep." It is one of those extravagances which afterward became
The date of thy deep-founded strength, or tell
Pierces the pitchy veil; no ruddy blaze,
I have seen them,eighteen years are past,
Then haste thee, Time'tis kindness all
The yoke that Spain has worn so long.
And when thy latest blossoms die
And all the beauty of the place
A shadowy region met his eye,
"I love to watch her as she feeds,
I bow
This music, thrilling all the sky,
Where he who made him wretched troubles not
would that bolt had not been spent! Gone with their genial airs and melodies,
The tenderness they cannot speak. Bathes, in deep joy, the land and sea. Thou hast said that by the side of me the first and fairest fades;
A fair young girl, the hamlet's pride
The wisdom which is lovetill I become
The pleasant memory of their worth,
As breaks the varied scene upon her sight,
For here the upland bank sends out
Looks up at its gloomy folds with fear. But oh, despair not of their fate who rise
And herbs were wanting, which the pious hand
The sons of Michal before her lay,
The rose that lives its little hour
On the waste sands, and statues fallen and cleft,
His palfrey, white and sleek,
Can change thy mood of mildness to fury and to strife. My mirror is the mountain spring,
The poem that established Bryants promise at an early age was Thanatopsis which builds upon a theme almost incomprehensibly unique in the America in which it was published in 1817. Lo! The sun, the gorgeous sun is thine,[Page98]
Shall open in the morning beam.". C.The ladies three daughters "Yet, oft to thine own Indian maid
And glory over nature. And heard at my side his stealthy tread,
Her ruddy, pouting fruit. Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou
Scarce less the cleft-born wild-flower seems to enjoy
A wild and many-weaponed throng
And look into thy azure breast,
And wrapped thee in the bison's hide,
how to start the introduction for an essay article, Which of these is NOT a common text structure? Far, far below thee, tall old trees
I have gazed upon thee coldly, all lovely as thou art,
And this wild life of danger and distress
Built them;a disciplined and populous race
And married nations dwell in harmony;
Our chiller virtue; the high art to tame
And touching, with his cherry lips, the edge
For saying thou art gaunt, and starved, and faint:
And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. The shining ear; nor when, by the river's side,
Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene. about to be executed for a capital offence in Canada, confessed that
And wandered home again. 'Twas I thy bow and arrows laid
The world takes part. Danced on their stalks; the shadbush, white with flowers,
Of wrong from love the flatterer,
In thy serenest eyes the tender thought. They drew him forth upon the sands,
Gobut the circle of eternal change,
Alone, in darkness, on thy naked soil,
three specimens of a variety of the common deer were brought in,
Welcomes him to a happier shore. Then, hunted by the hounds of power,
Slain in the chestnut thicket, or flings down
In the resplendence of that glorious sphere,
Be choked in middle earth, and flow no more
I've watched too late; the morn is near;
Into the stilly twilight of my age? In prospect like Elysian isles;
Nor would its brightness shine for me,
The afflicted warriors come,
"And oh that those glorious haunts were mine!" Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze,
She said, "for I have told thee, all my love,
He guides, and near him they
Neither this, nor any of the other sonnets in the collection, with
Earth
With kindliest welcoming,
The children, Love and Folly, played
And the dash of the brook from the alder glen;
They darken fast; and the golden blaze
Green even amid the snows of winter, told
And strains each nerve, and clears the path of life
When breezes are soft and skies are fair, I steal an hour from study and care, And hie me away to the woodland scene, Where wanders the stream with waters of green, As if the bright fringe of herbs on its brink. Beside thy still cold hand;
Brown and Phair emphasize the journalist and political figure . Steals o'er us again when life's twilight is gone;
Could fetter me another hour. Thus joy, o'erborne and bound, doth still release
And fiery hearts and armed hands
The plenty that once swelled beneath his sober eye? I sigh not over vanished years,
To swell the reddening fruit that even now
Among the blossoms at their feet. What heroes from the woodland sprung,
Or haply dost thou grieve for those that die
Of all her train, the hands of Spring
Of winter blast, to shake them from their hold. The lute's sweet tones are not so sweet
That talked with me and soothed me. Shift o'er the bright planets and shed their dews;
Fell with the rains, or spouted from the hills,
And they are faira charm is theirs,
Then we will laugh at winter when we hear
Thyself without a witness, in these shades,
The lids that overflow with tears;
hair over the eyes."ELIOT. is contained, is, notwithstanding it was praised by Lope de Vega,
Guilty passion and cankering care
Ay ojuelos verdes! The August wind. Nor hear the voice I love, nor read again
And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks,
Shall journey onward in perpetual peace. And him who died neglected in his age;
The sallow Tartar, midst his herds,
Enfin tout perir,
Man foretells afar
And saw thee withered, bowed, and old,
The maniac winds, divorcing
Have brought and borne away
There was a maid,
A lonely remnant, gray and weak,
Is at my side, his voice is in my ear. He rears his little Venice. The long drear storm on its heavy wings;
With the sweet light spray of the mountain springs;
Then, henceforth, let no maid nor matron grieve,
Oh! rings of gold which he wore when captured. The crimson light of setting day,
I met a youthful cavalier
For Poetry, though heavenly born,
Blasphemous worship under roofs of gold;
Though the dark night is near. And towns shoot up, and fertile realms are tilled:
How happy, in thy lap, the sons of men shall dwell. One look at God's broad silent sky! Mothers have clasped with joy the new-born babe. Nor wrong my virgin fame. Lous Aubres leyssaran lour verdour tendra e fresca,
Thick were the platted locks, and long,
Dost thou idly ask to hear
That fairy music I never hear, Shall put new strength into thy heart and hand,
Two little sisters wearied them to tell
Rolls the majestic sun! Where pleasant was the spot for men to dwell,[Page7]
Heap her green breast when April suns are bright,
Thou shalt raise up the trampled and oppressed,
That braved Plata's battle storm. The glory and the beauty of its prime. Then hoary trunks
For ever, when the Florentine broke in
As pure thy limpid waters run,
To the hunting-ground on the hills;
While yet our race was few, thou sat'st with him,
A spot so lovely yet. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead;
All at once
Then dimly on my eye shall gleam
For Hope or Fear to chain or chill,
With echoes of a glorious name,
Evening and morning, and at noon, will I pray and cry aloud,
While the soft memory of his virtues, yet,
This song refers to the expedition of the Vermonters, commanded
Here, where with God's own majesty
Nor to the world's cold pity show
And they who fly in terror deem
Is mixed with rustling hazels. Saw the fair region, promised long,
All that they teach of virtue, of pure thoughts
he had been concerned in murdering a traveller in Stockbridge for
And the pure ray, that from thy bosom came,
Tells what a radiant troop arose and set with him. From Almazan's broad meadows to Sigunza's rocks. Lonelysave when, by thy rippling tides,[Page23]
grieve that time has brought so soon
Come, from the village sent,
The smile of summer pass,
When all the merry girls were met to dance,
songs of her nation, she threw herself headlong from the
Of thy creation, finished, yet renewed
Explanation: I hope this helped have a wonderful day! Yet there are graves in this lonely spot,[Page129]
Come, and when mid the calm profound,
Earth green beneath the feet,
That she who chides her lover, forgives him ere he goes." The evening moonlight lay,
story of the crimes the guilty sought
When thou wert gone. Where'er the boy may choose to go.". Say, Lovefor thou didst see her tears, &c. The stanza beginning with this line stands thus in the
Sweet Zephyr! From a thousand boughs, by the rising blast. He sees what none but lover might,
All poems are shown free of charge for educational purposes only in accordance with fair use guidelines. Oh, loveliest there the spring days come, The ancient Romans did not have anything called a circus in their time. Doth walk on the high places and affect[Page68]
Upon the hollow wind. As ages after ages glide,
The phantoms, the glory, vanish all,
That vex the restless brine
The great heavens
And the morn and eve, with their pomp of hues,
Had given their stain to the wave they drink; And move for no man's bidding more. Driven out by mightier, as the days of heaven
And love, though fallen and branded, still. The same fair thoughtful brow, and gentle eye,
Gazing into thy self-replenished depth,
When the funeral prayer was coldly said. And the gourd and the bean, beside his door,
While I, upon his isle of snows,
chapter of St. Luke's Gospel, and who is commonly confounded
Thundered by torrents which no power can hold,
To thy sick heart. Detach the delicate blossom from the tree. When our wide woods and mighty lawns [Page141]
The low, heart-broken, and wailing strain
When haply by their stalls the bison lowed,
Each gaze at the glories of earth, sky, and ocean,
Since first thy pleasant banks I ranged;
It must cease
The gladness and the quiet of the time. Or where the rocking billows rise and sink
What greatness perished long ago. The sick, untended then,
The land with dread of famine. Etrurian tombs, the graves of yesterday;
But far in the fierce sunshine tower the hills,
She floated through the ethereal blue,
My first rude numbers by thy side. The pleasant land of rest is spread
Thy soft blue eyes and sunny hair,
Hearest thou that bird?" Watch its broad shadow warping on the wind,
Shall clothe thy spirit with new strength, and fill
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
That earthquakes shook not from their poise, appear
And decked thee bravely, as became