Among the Hills (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
PRELUDEALONG the roadside, like the flowers of goldThat tawny Incas for their gardens wrought,Heavy with sunshine droops the golden-rod,And the ...
PRELUDEALONG the roadside, like the flowers of goldThat tawny Incas for their gardens wrought,Heavy with sunshine droops the golden-rod,And the ...
UP the hillside, down the glen,Rouse the sleeping citizen;Summon out the might of men!Like a lion growling low,Like a night-storm ...
THEY sat in silent watchfulnessThe sacred cypress-tree about,And, from beneath old wrinkled brows,Their failing eyes looked out.Gray Age and Sickness ...
I.Ghosts of the dead! have I not heard your yellingRise on the night-rolling breath of the blast,When o'er the dark ...
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