The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Early poems

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Σελίδα 268 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
Σελίδα 33 - Last night the moon had a golden ring, And to-night no moon we see! " The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, And a scornful laugh laughed he.
Σελίδα 269 - Nothing useless is, or low ; Each thing in its place is best ; And what seems but idle show, Strengthens and supports the rest.
Σελίδα 96 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Σελίδα 177 - Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his hyssop Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon them, Down the long street she passed, with her chaplet of beads and her missal, Wearing her Norman cap, and her kirtle of blue, and the ear-rings, Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as an heirloom, Handed down from mother to child, through long generations. But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — Shone on her face and encircled her form, when,...
Σελίδα 15 - TELL me not, in mournful numbers, "Life is but an empty dream ! " For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; " Dust thou art, to dust returnest,'
Σελίδα 18 - saith he ; " Have nought but the bearded grain ? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. " My Lord has need of these flowerets gay...
Σελίδα 30 - Once as I told in glee Tales of the stormy sea, Soft eyes did gaze on me, Burning yet tender ; And as the white stars shine On the dark Norway pine, On that dark heart of mine Fell their soft splendor.
Σελίδα 28 - SPEAK! speak! thou fearful guest! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me ! Wrapt not in Eastern balms, But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms, Why dost thou haunt me ? " Then, from those cavernous eyes Pale flashes seemed to rise, As when the Northern skies Gleam in December ; And, like the water's flow Under December's snow, Came a dull voice of woe From the heart's chamber. " I was a Viking old ! My deeds, though manifold, No...
Σελίδα 18 - And with them the Being Beauteous, Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies...

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