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Abridged answered appearance arms asked bells born brought called Captain carried Citizen close comes cried dark dead English eyes face father fear field fight fire follow four gave give half hand head hear heard heart hill hold honor horse hour Indiana Italy John kind King knew land leave letter light live look Lord master mother nature never night noble once Pahom pass person Pickwick poor road round seemed seen ship side Silver soon speak spirit stand step Stone stood story street strong tell thee thing thou thought took turned walked whole wind Winkle young
Page 53 - I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams ; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Page 165 - Beneath whose awful Hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget — lest we forget ! The tumult and the shouting dies ; The captains and the kings depart : Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart.
Page 166 - For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard, All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding, calls not Thee to guard — For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!
Page 188 - DEAR MADAM : I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant-General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming.
Page 309 - ... full many a gem of purest ray serene the dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear : full many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert air. some village Hampden that with dauntless breast the little tyrant of his fields withstood, some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.
Page 308 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Page 341 - And what is so rare as a day in June ? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays : Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might. An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
Page 309 - E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of the unhonored dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate...
Page 306 - WHEN Freedom from her mountain height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night. And set the stars of glory there. She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then from his mansion in the sun She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen land.
Page 59 - Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold: Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" — The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord.