Poems

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T.Y. Crowell & Company, 1893 - 371 páginas

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Página 245 - For all day the wheels are droning, turning; Their wind comes in our faces, Till our hearts turn, our heads with pulses burning, And the walls turn in their places. Turns the sky in the high window, blank and reeling, Turns the long light that drops adown the wall, Turn the black flies that crawl along the ceiling; All are turning, all the day — and we with all. And all day the iron wheels are droning, And sometimes we could pray, "O ye wheels' (breaking out in a mad moaning), 'Stop!
Página 248 - And well may the children weep before you ! They are weary ere they run ; They have never seen the sunshine, nor the glory Which is brighter than the sun. They know the grief of man, without its wisdom ; They sink in man's despair, without its calm ; Are slaves, without the liberty in Christdom, Are martyrs, by the pang without the palm...
Página 313 - And her face is lily-clear, Lily-shaped, and dropped in duty To the law of its own beauty. Oval cheeks encoloured faintly, Which a trail of golden hair Keeps from fading off to air : And a forehead fair and saintly, Which two blue eyes undershine, Like meek prayers before a shrine.
Página 355 - WHAT are we set on earth for? Say, to toil; Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines For all the heat o' the day, till it declines, And Death's mild curfew shall from work assoil. God did anoint thee with His odorous oil, To wrestle, not to reign...
Página 271 - And if one or two quick tears Dropped upon his glossy ears Or a sigh came double, Up he sprang in eager haste, Fawning, fondling, breathing fast In a tender trouble.
Página 127 - Lucretius, nobler than his mood, Who dropped his plummet down the broad Deep universe and said " No God — " Finding no bottom : he denied Divinely the divine, and died Chief poet on the Tiber-side...
Página 269 - Like a lady's ringlets brown, Flow thy silken ears adown Either side demurely Of thy silver-suited breast Shining out from all the rest Of thy body purely. Darkly brown thy body is, Till the sunshine striking this Alchemize its dulness, When the sleek curls manifold Flash all over into gold With a burnished fulness.
Página 127 - Pindar, quick as fear. With race-dust on his cheeks, and clear Slant startled eyes that seem to hear The chariot rounding the last goal. To hurtle past it in his soul...
Página 353 - ... and sweetness, faileth suddenly, And silence against which you dare not cry, Aches round you like a strong disease and new — What hope ? what help ? what music will undo That silence to your sense? Not friendship's sigh. Not reason's subtle count. Not melody Of viols, nor of pipes that Faunus blew. Not songs of poets, nor of nightingales, Whose hearts leap upward through the cypress-trees To the clear moon ! nor yet the spheric laws Self-chanted, — nor the angels' sweet All hails, Met in...
Página 361 - Of yon gray blank of sky, we might grow faint To muse upon eternity's constraint Round our aspirant souls; but since the scope Must widen early, is it well to droop, For a few days consumed in loss and taint? O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road, Singing beside the hedge.

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