The Poet's Journal

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Ticknor and Fields, 1863 - History - 204 pages
 

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Page 177 - Lord," he said, and then there came A holy strength upon my heart, and I could say the same.
Page 104 - ... waking now, And drink the splendor of a sun supreme That turns the mist of former tears to gold. Within these arms I hold The fleeting promise, chased so long in vain : Ah, weary bird ! thou wilt not fly again : Thy wings are clipped, thou canst no more depart, — Thy nest is builded in my heart...
Page 85 - O'er the delivered world Comes Morn, with every banner flying And every sail unfurled ! So long the night, so chill, so blank and dreary, I thought the sun was dead ; But yonder burn his beacons cheery On peaks of cloudy red : And yonder fly his scattered golden arrows, And smite the hills with day, While Night her vain dominion narrows And westward wheels away.
Page 175 - First-day afternoons in spring, and watch the swallows flit: He loved to smell the sprouting box, and hear the pleasant bees Go humming round the lilacs and through the appletrees.
Page 175 - I think he loved the spring : not that he cared for flowers : most men Think such things foolishness, — but we were first acquainted then, One spring : the next he spoke his mind ; the third I was his wife, And in the spring (it happened so) our children entered life.
Page 178 - As home we rode, I saw no fields look half so green as ours; The woods were coming into leaf, the meadows full of flowers; The neighbors met us in the lane, and every face was kind— 'Tis strange how lively everything comes back upon my mind.
Page 176 - We've lived together fifty years: it seems but one long day, One quiet Sabbath of the heart, till he was called away ; And as we bring from Meeting-time a sweet contentment home, So, Hannah, I have store of peace for all the days to come.
Page 188 - OFAIR young land, the youngest, fairest far Of which our world can boast, — Whose guardian planet, Evening's silver star, Illumes thy golden coast, — How art thou conquered, tamed in all the pride Of savage beauty still ! How brought, O panther of the splendid hide, To know thy master's will ! No more thou sittest on thy tawny hills In indolent repose ; Or pourest the crystal of a thousand rills Down from thy house of snows.
Page 178 - I used to blush when he came near, but then I showed no sign; With all the meeting looking on, I held his hand in mine. It seemed my bashfulness was gone, now I was his for life: Thee knows the feeling, Hannah, — thee, too, hast been a wife.
Page 178 - It is not right to wish for death ; the Lord disposes best. His Spirit comes to quiet hearts, and fits them for His rest ; And that He halved our little flock was merciful, I see : For Benjamin has two in heaven, and two are left with me.

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