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Echoes from Home. a Collection of Songs, Ballads, and Other Home Poetry
Недоступно для просмотра - 2017
Echoes from Home: A Collection of of Songs, Ballads, and Other Home Poetry ...
Недоступно для просмотра - 2017
angels arms baby bear beauty Bingen blessed bliss borne bosom brave breath bright bring brother bucket child comes COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT crown dark dead dear dearer death Douglas dreams earth England eyes fair fall father feel fireside flag flowers give gladness glory grave green grow hame hand happy hath hear heart heaven hill holy hope hour kind king knee land lays leaves life's light live look Lord marching meet memory morn mother's native nest never night o'er once pass peace rest Rhine river round shining shore silent sing sleep smile song soon sorrow soul sound spirit stand stars storm sweet tears tell tender thee thine thing thou thoughts tree true voice wandering wave weary wife wild winds
Стр. 48 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed ; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Стр. 40 - Quick as it fell, from the broken staff, Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf: She leaned far out on the window-sill, And shook it forth with a royal will. "Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country's flag," she said. . A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came; The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman's deed and word: "Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog! March on!
Стр. 130 - The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well. That moss-covered vessel I hailed as a treasure, For often at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing, And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell ; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well — The old oaken...
Стр. 76 - Then kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing," That thus they all shall meet in future days: There, ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere...
Стр. 31 - Ye Mariners of England That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze! Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe, And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do' blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Стр. 76 - Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme: How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; How He, who bore in heaven the second name, Had not on earth whereon to lay His head; How his first followers and servants sped — The precepts sage they wrote to many a land; How he, who, lone in Patmos banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand, And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounced by Heaven's command. Then kneeling down to Heaven's eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "...
Стр. 163 - Oft, in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me ; The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken ; The eyes that shone, Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken ! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain hath bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Стр. 218 - Renew my will from day to day, Blend it with thine, and take away All that now makes it hard to say, Thy will be done.
Стр. 58 - MINE be a cot beside the hill ; A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch, Shall twitter from her clay-built nest; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest.
Стр. 49 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free. The ocean eagle soared From his nest by the white wave's foam; And the rocking pines of the forest roared — This was their welcome home.