The Song Of Hiawatha XII: The Son Of The Evening Star (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems)
Can it be the sun descendingO'er the level plain of water?Or the Red Swan floating, flying,Wounded by the magic arrow,Staining ...
Can it be the sun descendingO'er the level plain of water?Or the Red Swan floating, flying,Wounded by the magic arrow,Staining ...
"Honor be to Mudjekeewis!"Cried the warriors, cried the old men,When he came in triumph homewardWith the sacred Belt of Wampum,From ...
I.Low and mournful be the strain,Haughty thought be far from me;Tones of penitence and pain,Moanings of the tropic sea;Low and ...
A little white soul went up to God, Out of the mire of the city street;It grew like a flower in ...
Where Hudson's wave o'er silvery sandsWinds through the hills afar,Old Cronest like a monarch stands,Crowned with a single star!And there, ...
The Sun-god was reclining on a couch of rosy shells,And in the foamy waters Nereids tinkled silver bells,That lent the ...
There may be chaos still around the world,This little world that in my thinking lies;For mine own bosom is the ...
She might have known it in the earlier Spring,— That all my heart with vague desire was stirred;And, ere the Summer ...
ILMARINEN'S WOOING.ILMARINEN, hero-blacksmith,The eternal metal-worker,Hastens forward to the court-roomOf the hostess of Pohyola,Of the master of the Northland,Hastens through the ...
ON Dinan's walls the morning sunlight plays, Gilds the stern fortress with a crown of rays, Shines on the children's ...
O that the pines which crown yon steepTheir fires might ne'er surrender!O that yon fervid knoll might keep,While lasts the ...
Can it be the sun descending O'er the level plain of water? Or the Red Swan floating, flying, Wounded by ...
"Honor be to Mudjekeewis!" Cried the warriors, cried the old men, When he came in triumph homeward With the sacred ...
Thousand minstrels woke within me, "Our music's in the hills; "- Gayest pictures rose to win me, Leopard-colored rills. Up!-If ...
I hear the halting footsteps of a lass In Negro Harlem when the night lets fall Its veil. I see ...
A rose of perfect red, embossed With silver sheens of crystal frost, Yet warm, nor life nor fragrance lost. High ...
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