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Σελίδα 18 - I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps: His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel: As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, Since God is marching on.
Σελίδα 48 - The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world and she to her nest, — In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best...
Σελίδα 6 - I was rich in flowers and trees, Humming-birds and honey-bees; For my sport the squirrel played, Plied the snouted mole his spade; For my taste the blackberry cone Purpled over hedge and stone; Laughed the brook for my delight Through the day and through the night, Whispering at the garden wall, Talked with me from fall to fall; Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond, Mine the walnut slopes beyond, Mine, on bending orchard trees, Apples of Hesperides!
Σελίδα 14 - Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles ? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit ; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.
Σελίδα 6 - Knowledge never learned of schools, Of the wild bee's morning chase, Of the wild flower's time and place, Flight of fowl and habitude Of the tenants of the wood...
Σελίδα 48 - The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel, And the former called the latter 'Little Prig; Bun replied, 'You are doubtless very big; But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together, To make up a year And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, You are not so small as I, And not half so spry. I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track; Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you...
Σελίδα 13 - Ere the pruning-knife of time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets And he looks at all he meets So forlorn, And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said,
Σελίδα 20 - And low eaves' icy fretting. It touched the tangled golden curls, And brown eyes, full of grieving, Of one who still her steps delayed When all the school were leaving. For near her stood the little boy, Her childish favor singled, His cap pulled low upon a face Where pride and shame were mingled.
Σελίδα 17 - ... the awful fear. We see them part. We see the wife standing in the door with the babe in her arms— standing in the sunlight sobbing. At the turn of the road a hand waves— she answers by holding high in her loving arms the child. He is gone, and forever.