Echoes from Home: A Collection of Home Poetry |
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Page 10
... GLORY DWELLETH IN IM- MANUEL'S LAND .. • Faber .. Anonymous . WARD . HOME'S A NEST . 66 104 · 107 19 20 385 25 50 187 206 • 42 • • Allan Cunningham . 46 • H. W. Longfellow . · 60 86 • 106 119 • • 183 . 190 . · 214 216 • HOME ...
... GLORY DWELLETH IN IM- MANUEL'S LAND .. • Faber .. Anonymous . WARD . HOME'S A NEST . 66 104 · 107 19 20 385 25 50 187 206 • 42 • • Allan Cunningham . 46 • H. W. Longfellow . · 60 86 • 106 119 • • 183 . 190 . · 214 216 • HOME ...
Page 17
... glory ! Hark ! hark ! what myriads bid you rise ! Your children , wives , and grandsires hoary , Behold their tears and hear their cries . Shall hateful tyrants , mischiefs breeding , With hireling hosts , a ruffian band , Affright and ...
... glory ! Hark ! hark ! what myriads bid you rise ! Your children , wives , and grandsires hoary , Behold their tears and hear their cries . Shall hateful tyrants , mischiefs breeding , With hireling hosts , a ruffian band , Affright and ...
Page 23
... glory of the coming of the Lord : He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored ; He hath loosed the faithful lightning of his terrible swift sword : His Truth is marching on . I have seen Him in the watch - fires ...
... glory of the coming of the Lord : He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored ; He hath loosed the faithful lightning of his terrible swift sword : His Truth is marching on . I have seen Him in the watch - fires ...
Page 24
... the sea , With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me : As He died to make men holy , let us die to make men free , While God is marching on . Julia Ward Howe . BANNOCKBURN . ROBERT BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY . COTS.
... the sea , With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me : As He died to make men holy , let us die to make men free , While God is marching on . Julia Ward Howe . BANNOCKBURN . ROBERT BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY . COTS.
Page 30
... glory's time , Rest thee there is no prouder grave , - Even in her own proud clime . She wore no funeral weeds for thee , Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume , Like torn branch from death's leafless tree , In sorrow's pomp and ...
... glory's time , Rest thee there is no prouder grave , - Even in her own proud clime . She wore no funeral weeds for thee , Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume , Like torn branch from death's leafless tree , In sorrow's pomp and ...
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Echoes from Home. a Collection of Songs, Ballads, and Other Home Poetry Dana Estes No preview available - 2017 |
Common terms and phrases
ain countrie ain kind dearie Allan Cunningham angels baby Bayard Taylor beauty Bingen blessed blest bliss bonnie bosom BOZZARIS brave breath bright brother brow child cottage COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT crown dark dear dearer doth Douglas dreams earth Ebenezer Elliot Erin go Bragh eyes fain fair father father's knee Felicia Hemans fireside flag flowers frae Gerald Massey glad glory hame hand happy hath hear heart heaven hill holy homes of England hope HYMN Immanuel's land John Anderson Julia Ward leal life's light look Lord meet morn mother's ne'er nest never o'er old arm-chair old oaken bucket peace pilgrim rapture rest Rhine river Robert Burns round shining shore sic bands sigh silent sing skies sleep smile song sorrow soul sound splendor stars storm sweet tears thee thine Thomas Campbell thou thoughts tree Twas wandering weary wee thing wild
Popular passages
Page 48 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed ; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Page 40 - Quick as it fell, from the broken staff, Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf: She leaned far out on the window-sill, And shook it forth with a royal will. "Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country's flag," she said. . A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came; The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman's deed and word: "Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog! March on!
Page 130 - The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well. That moss-covered vessel I hailed as a treasure, For often at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing, And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell ; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well — The old oaken...
Page 76 - Then kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing," That thus they all shall meet in future days: There, ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere...
Page 31 - Ye Mariners of England That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze! Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe, And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do' blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 76 - Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme: How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; How He, who bore in heaven the second name, Had not on earth whereon to lay His head; How his first followers and servants sped — The precepts sage they wrote to many a land; How he, who, lone in Patmos banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand, And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounced by Heaven's command. Then kneeling down to Heaven's eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "...
Page 163 - Oft, in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me ; The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken ; The eyes that shone, Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken ! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain hath bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Page 218 - Renew my will from day to day, Blend it with thine, and take away All that now makes it hard to say, Thy will be done.
Page 58 - MINE be a cot beside the hill ; A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch, Shall twitter from her clay-built nest; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.
Page 49 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free. The ocean eagle soared From his nest by the white wave's foam; And the rocking pines of the forest roared — This was their welcome home.