Voices of the Night, and Other Poems

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Crowell, 1893 - Europe - 303 pages

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Page 196 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an Eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist...
Page 13 - Flowers ; In all places, then, and in all seasons, Flowers expand their light and soul-like wings, Teaching us, by most persuasive reasons, How akin they are to human things. And with childlike, credulous affection We behold their tender buds expand ; Emblems of our own great resurrection, Emblems of the bright and better land.
Page 239 - Poised upon the mast to hear, Till his soul was full of longing, And he cried, with impulse strong, — " Helmsman ! for the love of heaven, Teach me, too, that wondrous song!" " Wouldst thou," — so the helmsman answered, " Learn the secret of the sea? Only those who brave its dangers Comprehend its mystery...
Page 208 - All are scattered now and fled, Some are married, some are dead ; And when I ask, with throbs of pain, " Ah ! when shall they all meet again ? '" As in the days long since gone by, The ancient timepiece makes reply, — " Forever — never ! Never — forever...
Page 97 - Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May. The skipper he stood beside the helm, His pipe was in his mouth, And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now West, now South.
Page 20 - O what a glory doth this world put on For him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks On duties well performed, and days well spent...
Page 93 - I wooed the blue-eyed maid, Yielding, yet half afraid, And in the forest's shade Our vows were plighted. Under its loosened vest Fluttered her little breast, Like birds within their nest By the hawk frighted. "Bright in her father's hall Shields gleamed upon the wall, Loud sang the minstrels all, Chanting his glory; When of old Hildebrand I asked his daughter's hand, Mute did the minstrels stand To hear my story.
Page 132 - No one is so accursed by fate, No one so utterly desolate, But some heart, though unknown, Responds unto his own : Responds, — as if, with unseen wings, An angel touched its quivering strings ; And whispers, in its song, ' ' Where hast thou stayed so long ?
Page 266 - TAKE them, O Death ! and bear away Whatever thou canst call thine own ! Thine image, stamped upon this clay, Doth give thee that, but that alone ! Take them, O Grave! and let them lie Folded upon thy narrow shelves, As garments by the soul laid by, And precious only to ourselves ! Take them, O great Eternity! Our little life is but a gust, That bends the branches of thy tree, And trails its blossoms in the dost I HYMN.
Page 136 - With thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up the sod, And spread the furrow for the seed we sow ; This is the field and Acre of our God, This is the place where human harvests grow.

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