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admirable American appeared associate bear beautiful breath bright Bryant called century close College course death deep early earth edited editorial expression fair father feeling flowers forest genius give given green ground hand heart heaven hills honour human hymn interest Italy journalism journalist land language leaves letter light lines literary literature living look marked memory mind mountains nature never North once passed poem poet poetical poetry political Post present prose published pure received says seems seen side song sound speak spirit spring stand stream style summer sweet tells Thanatopsis thee thou thought tion trees true truth verse volume walk waters Wilson wind woods writings written wrote York young youth
第 52 頁 - Go forth, under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around — Earth and her waters, and the depths of air — Comes a still voice: — Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, And, lost each human trace...
第 51 頁 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
第 53 頁 - Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those, who in their turn shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, which moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
第 13 頁 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
第 61 頁 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
第 98 頁 - THE melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread; The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day.
第 183 頁 - Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Nice good wife that never goes out, Keeping house while I frolic about. Chee, chee, chee." Soon as the little ones chip the shell, Six wide mouths are open for food, Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seeds for the hungry brood; "Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link. Spink, spank, spink, This new life is likely to be Hard for a gay young fellow like me. Chee, chee, chee.
第 83 頁 - Father, Thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns. Thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and forthwith rose All these fair ranks of trees.
第 83 頁 - Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died Among their branches, till, at last, they stood, As now they stand, massy, and tall, and dark, Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold Communion with his Maker.
第 96 頁 - I know, I know I should not see The season's glorious show, Nor would its brightness shine for me, Nor its wild music flow ; But if, around my place of sleep, The friends I love should come to weep, They might not haste to go. Soft airs, and song, and light and bloom Should keep them lingering by my tomb.