Poetical Works, 第 3 卷

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Little, Brown, 1865
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第 127 頁 - The voice at midnight came; He started up to hear ; A mortal arrow pierced his frame — He fell, but felt no fear.
第 108 頁 - A MOTHER'S Love, — how sweet the name! What is a Mother's Love? — A noble, pure, and tender flame, Enkindled from above, To bless a heart of earthly mould ; The warmest love that can grow cold : This is a Mother's Love.
第 154 頁 - The dead are like the stars by day ; Withdrawn from mortal eye, But not extinct, they hold their way In glory through the sky...
第 220 頁 - Condemn'd to fade and flee : I should be loth to fall Beside the common way, Weltering in mire, and spurn'd by all, Till trodden down to clay. Nor would I choose to die All on a bed of grass, Where thousands of my kindred lie, And idly rot in mass. Nor would I like to spread My thin and wither'd face In hortus siccus, pale and dead, A mummy of my race.
第 258 頁 - Marshaled, once more, at Freedom's call, They came to conquer or to fall, Where he who conquered, he who fell, Was deemed a dead or living Tell, Such...
第 260 頁 - Make way for Liberty !" he cried, then ran with arms extended wide, as if his dearest friend to clasp; ten spears he swept within his grasp : " Make way for Liberty !
第 257 頁 - he cried, — Made way for liberty, and died ! In arms the Austrian phalanx stood, A living wall, a human wood ; Impregnable their front appears, All horrent with projected spears.
第 216 頁 - tis death to-morrow, And to-day the agony between : Then how longs the weary soul for thee, Bright and beautiful eternity ! ASPIRATIONS OF YOUTH. HIGHEB, higher will we climb Up the mount of glory, That our names may live through time In our country's story ; Happy, when her welfare calls, He who conquers, he who falls.
第 108 頁 - A noble, pure, and tender flame, Enkindled from above, To bless a heart of earthly mould ; The warmest love that can grow cold ; This is a mother's love. To bring a helpless babe to light, Then, while it lies forlorn, To gaze upon that dearest sight, And feel herself new-born, In its existence lose her own, And live and breathe in it alone ; This is a mother's love.
第 116 頁 - Appear'd too quickly won : — The warrior rush'd into the field, With arm invincible to wield The Spirit's sword, the Spirit's shield, When, lo ! the fight was done.

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