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Absalom beams beauty beneath bird blessed bloom blue bosom breast breath breeze bright brow calm Carlos Wilcox clouds cold dark dead death deep dreams dwell earth eternal fair Father fear feel flowers gaze gentle glorious glory glow God’s golden golden sun gone grave green Hadad hast hath hear heart heaven hills holy hour JVath land leaves life’s light lips living lonely look lyre man’s morning mountain nature’s night o'er old oaken bucket pale peace praise prayer pure rest roll round Rudbari Samuel F. B. Morse scene shade shine shore silent skies sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stars storm stream sunny sweet swell tears tempest thee thine thou art thought thundering bands tomb tread trees Twas twill vale voice wake wanderer waters waves weary weep wild winds wings woods youth
Page 55 - Thou'rt gone; the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He, who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright. The Constancy of
Page 135 - 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
Page 192 - Woodworth. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view! The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild wood, The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell; The cot of my father, the
Page 2 - of the said district, have deposited in this office the title of a book, the right whereof they claim as proprietors, in the words following, to wit:— " The American Common-Place Book of Poetry, with Occasional Notes. By George B. Cheever.
Page 94 - setting day In humble, grateful prayer. I love in solitude to shed The penitential tear, And all His promises to plead, Where none but God can hear. I love to think on mercies past, And future good implore, And all my sighs and sorrows cast On him whom I adore. I love by faith to take a view
Page 94 - There, if Thy Spirit touch the soul, And grace her mean abode, O, with what peace, and joy, and love. She communes with her God. " There, like the nightingale, she pours Her solitary Jays, Nor asks a witness
Page 386 - O Thou, to whom, in ancient time, The lyre of prophet bards was strung, To Thee, at last, in every clime, Shall temples rise, and praise be sung. The Sleeper.—Commercial Advertiser. Few blossoms then had of the year been born; The fresh winds whispered to the unfolding flower, It was the spring-time in its earliest hour:
Page 94 - calm retreat, the silent shade, With prayer and praise agree, And seem by Thy sweet bounty made For those who follow Thee. " There, if Thy Spirit touch the soul, And grace her mean abode, O, with what peace, and joy, and love. She communes with her God. " There, like the nightingale, she pours Her solitary
Page 217 - glory,—sabres rise and fall, Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall! There shall thy victor-glances glow, And cowering foes shall sink beneath Each gallant arm that strikes below That lovely messenger of death. When death, careering on the gale, Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frightened waves rush wildly back, Before the broad-side's reeling rack;