Fitz Adam’s Story (James Russell Lowell Poems)
The next whose fortune 'twas a tale to tellWas one whom men, before they thought, loved well,And after thinking wondered ...
The next whose fortune 'twas a tale to tellWas one whom men, before they thought, loved well,And after thinking wondered ...
I.AGASSIZ Come Dicesti _egli ebbe?_ non viv' egli ancora? Non fiere gli occhi suoi lo dolce lome?IThe electric nerve, whose ...
I don't much s'pose, hows'ever I should plen it,I could git boosted into th' House or Sennit,--Nut while the twolegged ...
Poem Read At Cambridge On The Hundredth Anniversary Of Washington's Taking Command Of The American ArmyIWords pass as wind, but ...
It's some consid'ble of a spell sence I hain't writ no letters,An' ther' 's gret changes hez took place in ...
IA heap of bare and splintery cragsTumbled about by lightning and frost,With rifts and chasms and storm-bleached jags,That wait and ...
One after one the stars have risen and set,Sparkling upon the hoarfrost on my chain:The Bear, that prowled all night ...
Entranced I saw a vision in the cloudThat loitered dreaming in yon sunset sky,Full of fair shapes, half creatures of ...
The cordage creaks and rattles in the wind,With whims of sudden hush; the reeling seaNow thumps like solid rock beneath ...
Curtis, whose Wit, with Fancy arm in arm,Masks half its muscle in its skill to charm,And who so gently can ...
I am a man of forty, sirs, a native of East Haddam,And have some reason to surmise that I descend ...
IWho cometh over the hills,Her garments with morning sweet,The dance of a thousand rillsMaking music before her feet?Her presence freshens ...
What know we of the world immenseBeyond the narrow ring of sense?What should we know, who lounge aboutThe house we ...
IA hundred years! they're quickly fled, With all their joy and sorrow;Their dead leaves shed upon the dead, Their fresh ones sprung ...
DEAR SIR,--Your letter come to han' Requestin' me to please be funny;But I ain't made upon a plan Thet knows wut's comin', ...
Weak-Winged is Song,Nor aims at that clear-ethered heightWhither the brave deed climbs for lightWe seem to do them wrong,Bringing our ...
Spirit, that rarely comest now And only to contrast my gloom, Like rainbow-feathered birds that bloomA moment on some autumn boughThat, with ...
Death never came so nigh to me before,Nor showed me his mild face: oft had I musedOf calm and peace ...
At Carnac in Brittany, close on the bay,They show you a church, or rather the grayRibs of a dead one, ...
Go! leave me, Priest; my soul would be Alone with the consoler, Death;Far sadder eyes than thine will see This crumbling clay ...
Thou look'dst on me all yesternight,Thine eyes were blue, thy hair was brightAs when we murmured our troth-plightBeneath the thick ...
Dear Wendell, why need count the years Since first your genius made me thrill,If what moved then to smiles or tears, Or ...
How struggles with the tempest's swellsThat warning of tumultuous bells!The fire is loose! and frantic knells Throb fast and faster,As tower ...
The Bardling came where by a river grewThe pennoned reeds, that, as the west-wind blew,Gleamed and sighed plaintively, as if ...
What boot your houses and your lands? In spite of close-drawn deed and fence,Like water, twixt your cheated hands,They slip into ...
A race of nobles may die out, A royal line may leave no heir;Wise Nature sets no guards about Her pewter plate ...
On this wild waste, where never blossom came, Save the white wind-flower to the billow's cap,Or those pale disks of momentary ...
Still thirteen years: 'tis autumn now On field and hill, in heart and brain;The naked trees at evening sough;The leaf to ...
One feast, of holy days the crest, I, though no Churchman, love to keep,All-Saints,--the unknown good that rest In God's still memory ...
Oft round my hall of portraiture I gaze,By Memory reared, the artist wise and holy,From stainless quarries of deep-buried days.There, ...
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