Poems, Volumen2Ticknor and Fields, 1850 |
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Página 121
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE STATUE OVER THE CATHEDRAL DOOR . FROM THE GERMAN OF JULIUS MOSEN . FORMS of saints and kings are standing The cathedral door above ; Yet I saw but one among them Who hath soothed my soul with love . In his ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE STATUE OVER THE CATHEDRAL DOOR . FROM THE GERMAN OF JULIUS MOSEN . FORMS of saints and kings are standing The cathedral door above ; Yet I saw but one among them Who hath soothed my soul with love . In his ...
Página 123
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE LEGEND OF THE CROSSBILL . FROM THE GERMAN OF JULIUS MOSEN . On the cross the dying Saviour Heavenward lifts his eyelids calm , Feels , but scarcely feels , a trembling In his pierced and bleeding palm ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. THE LEGEND OF THE CROSSBILL . FROM THE GERMAN OF JULIUS MOSEN . On the cross the dying Saviour Heavenward lifts his eyelids calm , Feels , but scarcely feels , a trembling In his pierced and bleeding palm ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Acadian Albrecht Dürer aloft art thou Balder Basil the blacksmith Béarn beautiful behold belfry BELFRY OF BRUGES bell beneath birds blossom breath bride Bruges burning Christmas carols cried dark dead descended door Evangeline Evangeline's eyes face fair farmer Father fire Ever higher fireside forest forever Forever never Gabriel Gascon gaze Ghent gleam golden Grand-Pré Guy de Dampierre hand head hear heard heart heaven higher Sing JULIUS MOSEN labor land laugh light lips loud maiden meadows Minnesingers morning never Never forever Nuremberg o'er ocean Ozark Mountains passed prairies prayer priest rain rise river rose round sail Saint sang seemed shadow ships shore silent slowly smile song sorrow soul sound spake stands stars stood sweet Tharaw thee thou thought tide toil unto village voice wander wave weary whispered wild wind words youth
Pasajes populares
Página 22 - Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease; And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say, "Peace !" Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies ! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.
Página 343 - She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule. In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead.
Página 126 - Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
Página 73 - Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies.
Página 138 - This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman?
Página 342 - Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors ; Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Página 304 - Standing before Her father's door, He saw the form of his promised bride. The sun shone on her golden hair, And her cheek was glowing fresh and fair, With the breath of morn and the soft sea air.
Página 137 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Página 141 - Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant, Shut out the turbulent tides ; but at stated seasons the flood-gates Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.
Página 189 - This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you! See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compassion! Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, 'O Father, forgive them!