A Gallery of Distinguished English and American Female Poets

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E. H. Butler & Company, 1860 - American poetry - 400 pages
 

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Page 95 - THE stately homes of England, How beautiful they stand ! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land. The deer across their greensward bound, ' Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream.
Page 91 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set, but all — Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death...
Page 212 - THE Frost looked forth one still, clear night, And whispered, " Now I shall be out of sight ; So through the valley and over the height, In silence I'll take my way. I will not go on like that blustering train — The Wind and the Snow, the Hail and the Rain, Who make so much bustle and noise in vain ; But I'll be as busy as they.
Page 166 - Unless you can muse in a crowd all day On the absent face that fixed you ; Unless you can love, as the angels may, With the breadth of heaven betwixt you; Unless you can dream that his faith is fast, Through behoving and unbehoving ; Unless you can die when the dream is past — Oh, never call it loving...
Page 89 - There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth.
Page 87 - THE breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods, against a stormy sky, Their giant branches tossed...
Page 162 - Queen," from hill to mart, She heard through all her beating heart, And turned and wept — She wept, to wear a crown...
Page 88 - 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.
Page 85 - Bright you sparkle on your way, O'er the yellow pebbles dancing, Through the flowers and foliage glancing, Like a child at play. River! River! swelling River ! On you rush o'er rough and smooth, — Louder, faster, brawling, leaping Over rocks by rose-banks sweeping, Like impetuous youth. River ! River ! brimming River ! Broad, and deep, and still as time, Seeming still — yet still in motion, Tending onward to the ocean, Just like mortal prime.
Page 91 - LEAVES have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the northwind's breath, And stars to set, — but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, oh! Death.

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