The Magazine of Poetry and Literary Review, Volume 3Charles Wells Moulton C.W. Moulton, 1891 - American poetry |
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Page 4
... smile and listen to the tinkle of the strings Of the sweet guitar my lover's fingers fondle , as he sings ? THERE is ever a song somewhere , my dear ; There is ever a something sings alway : There's the song of the lark when the skies ...
... smile and listen to the tinkle of the strings Of the sweet guitar my lover's fingers fondle , as he sings ? THERE is ever a song somewhere , my dear ; There is ever a something sings alway : There's the song of the lark when the skies ...
Page 6
... smile In silence on us all the while ; And we did see Him , through our tears , Enfolding that fair form of hers , She laughing back against His love . The kisses we had nothing of — And death to us he still denied , When Bessie died ...
... smile In silence on us all the while ; And we did see Him , through our tears , Enfolding that fair form of hers , She laughing back against His love . The kisses we had nothing of — And death to us he still denied , When Bessie died ...
Page 9
... smile as I have saw her ' fore she put her mournin ' on . And I want to see the Samples , on the old lower Eighty , Where John , our oldest boy , he was tuk and burried - for His own sake and Katy's , - and I want to cry with Katy And ...
... smile as I have saw her ' fore she put her mournin ' on . And I want to see the Samples , on the old lower Eighty , Where John , our oldest boy , he was tuk and burried - for His own sake and Katy's , - and I want to cry with Katy And ...
Page 10
... smiles and beckonings , Lead us , through the shadowy aisles , Out into the afterwhiles . DEATH . I cannot say , and ... smile , and a wave of the hand , He has wandered into an unknown land , And left us dreaming how very fair It needs ...
... smiles and beckonings , Lead us , through the shadowy aisles , Out into the afterwhiles . DEATH . I cannot say , and ... smile , and a wave of the hand , He has wandered into an unknown land , And left us dreaming how very fair It needs ...
Page 11
... Smile on the brow of the waters ! Dear are your memories to me , — Sweet as the songs of your daughters . Over your mountains and vales , Down by each murmuring river , Cheered by the flower - loving gales , Oh ! could I wander forever ...
... Smile on the brow of the waters ! Dear are your memories to me , — Sweet as the songs of your daughters . Over your mountains and vales , Down by each murmuring river , Cheered by the flower - loving gales , Oh ! could I wander forever ...
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Common terms and phrases
Albert Sidney Johnston angels beautiful birds bless bloom blue born Boston breast breath bright brow crown dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth eyes face fair feet flowers FORCEYTHE WILLSON frae FRANCIS SALTUS SALTUS friends G. P. Putnam's Sons gold golden grace grave gray hand hast hath hear heart heaven hour Ibid kiss land life's light lips literary live London look love's Magazine of Poetry Maryland Miscellaneous poems morning mother neath never night o'er pain pass peace PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON poet poetic published rest rose shadows shine sigh silence sing skies sleep smile soft song Sonnets sorrow soul spirit stars strong summer sweet tears thee thine things thought tree vers de société verse voice weary WILLIAM WHITTLESEY wind wings woman wonder words York youth
Popular passages
Page 245 - As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;" Let the hero born of woman crush the serpent with his heel...
Page 245 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword. His truth is marching on.
Page 111 - Where'er he sees a smile too bright, Or heart too pure for taint and vice, He bears it to that world of light, To dwell in Paradise. Born...
Page 251 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Page 384 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think, that I can drink With him that wears a hood : Though I go bare, take ye no care ; I nothing am a-cold : I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old.
Page 245 - Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife ! To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.
Page 244 - Some feelings are to mortals given, With less of earth in them than heaven ; And if there be a human tear From passion's dross refined and clear, A tear so limpid and so meek, It would not stain an angel's cheek, 'Tis that which pious fathers shed Upon a duteous daughter's head...
Page 245 - In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across 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.
Page 382 - ... plump ; a right jolly old elf; And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings ; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle , But I heard him exclaim, ere he...
Page 393 - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.