The Pennsylvania (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
PreludeI sing the Pilgrim of a softer climeAnd milder speech than those brave men's who broughtTo the ice and iron ...
PreludeI sing the Pilgrim of a softer climeAnd milder speech than those brave men's who broughtTo the ice and iron ...
Oh ! how I love to stand on some high rock, And gaze upon the foaming wild abyss Of Ocean — all ...
Dark the halls, and cold the feast,Gone the bridemaids, gone the priest.All is over, all is done,Twain of yesterday are ...
On Bancroft height Aurora's face Shines brighter than a star, As stepping forth in dewy grace, The gates of day unbar; And lo! the ...
The eastern heaven was all faint amethyst,Whereon the moon hung dreaming in the mist;To north yet drifted one long delicate ...
Sweet Singer that I loe the maistO' ony, sin' wi' eager hasteI smacket bairn-lips ower the tasteO' hinnied sang,I hail ...
SHRUNKEN little bodies, pallid baby faces,Eyes of staring terror, innocence defiled,Tiny bones that strew the sand of silent places,- This ...
Oh, like a treeLet me grow up to Thee! And like a TreeSend down my roots to Thee. Let my leaves stirIn ...
Out of the gray northwest, where many a day gone by Ye tugged and howled in your tempestuous grot, And evermore the huge frost giants lie, Your wizard guards in vigilance unforgot, Out of the gray northwest, for now the bonds are riven, On wide white wings your thongless flight is driven, That lulls but resteth not. And all the gray day long, and all the dense wild night, Ye wheel and hurry with the sheeted snow, By cedared waste and many a pine-dark height, Across white rivers frozen fast below; Over the lonely forests, where the flowers yet sleeping Turn in their narrow beds with dreams of weeping In some remembered woe; Across the unfenced wide marsh levels, where the dry Brown ferns sigh out, and last year's sedges scold In some drear language, rustling haggardly Their thin dead leaves and dusky hoods of gold; Across gray beechwoods where the pallid leaves unfalling In the blind gusts like homeless ghosts are calling With voices cracked and old; Across the solitary clearings, where the low Fierce gusts howl through the blinded woods, and round The buried shanties all day long the snow Sifts and piles up in many a spectral mound; Across lone villages in eerie wildernesses Whose hidden life no living shape confesses Nor any human sound; Across the serried masses of dim cities, blown Full of the snow that ever shifts and swells, While far above them all their towers of stone Stand and beat back your fierce and tyrannous spells, And hour by hour send out, like voices torn and broken Of battling giants that have grandly spoken, The veering sound of bells; So day and night, O Wind, with hiss and moan you fleet, Where once long gone on many a green-leafed day Your gentler brethren wandered with light feet And sang, with voices soft and sweet as they, The same blind thought that you with wilder might are speaking, Seeking the same strange thing that you are seeking In this your stormier way. O Wind, wild-voicèd brother, in your northern cave, My spirit also being so beset With pride and pain, I heard you beat and rave, Grinding your chains with furious howl and fret, Knowing full well that all earth's moving things inherit The same chained might and madness of the spirit, That none may quite forget. You in your cave of snows, we in our narrow girth Of need and sense, for ever chafe and pine; Only in moods of some demonic birth Our souls take fire, our flashing wings untwine; Even like you, mad Wind, above our broken prison, With streaming hair and maddened eyes uprisen, We dream ourselves divine; Mad moods that come and go in some mysterious way, That flash and fall, none knoweth how or why, O Wind, our brother, they are yours today, The stormy joy, the sweeping mastery; Deep in our narrow cells, we hear you, we awaken, With hands afret and bosoms strangely shaken, We answer to your cry. I most that love you, Wind, when you are fierce and free, In these dull fetters cannot long remain; Lo, I will rise and break my thongs and flee Forth to your drift and beating, till my brain Even for an hour grow wild in your divine embraces, And then creep back into mine earthly traces, And bind me with my chain. Nay, Wind, I hear you, desperate brother, in your might Whistle and howl; I shall not tarry long, And though the day be blind and fierce, the night Be dense and wild, I still am glad and strong To meet you face to face; through all your gust and drifting With brow held high, my joyous hands uplifting, I cry you song for song.(Archibald Lampman)
No cloud to dim the splendour of the dayWhich breaks o'er Naples and her lovely bay,And lights that brilliant sea ...
WHITE, cold, and sacred is my chosen home, A seat for gods, a mount divine; And from the height of ...
IWith Life and Death I walked when Love appeared,And made them on each side a shadow seem.Through wooded vales the ...
THERE was a land, where all men lived in dreams, Where heaven was hid by vapours, grey or gold; Yet ...
WHAT distance parteth thee and me! It is not space, it is not time-- Death hath not put between our ...
Too long, alas, too longMy patient heart enduresThis deep and desperate wrong-To walk on fallen ways afar from yours.O pain ...
Before the throne the spirits of the slain With a loud voice importunately cried, "O Lord of Hosts, ...
WHEN of some lovely landscape unforgot A shadowy sketch I see, my thought divines Clear sunshine gleaming through the pencilled ...
I have not known a quieter thing than ships,Nor any dreamers steeped in dream as these,For all that they have ...
Saint Paul has said this mortal shall arise Freed from its grossness, palpable in form, Vital, organic, pulsing with a ...
Even from afar came shouts of recognition joyful voices rang across the years disdained and faces of our childhood unforgot ...
In Arthur's house whileome was I When happily the time went by In midmost glory of his days. He held ...
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