The Crane Reader, Libro 5Crane, 1902 |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 42
Página 9
... Clouds The Cry of the Human The Declaration of Independence The Fisherman The Foot - Path to Peace The Fruits of Labor The Golden Milestone .Lord Chatham , 186 .Lydia Maria Child , 221 .Edward Bulwer , 263 William Cullen Bryant , 320 ...
... Clouds The Cry of the Human The Declaration of Independence The Fisherman The Foot - Path to Peace The Fruits of Labor The Golden Milestone .Lord Chatham , 186 .Lydia Maria Child , 221 .Edward Bulwer , 263 William Cullen Bryant , 320 ...
Página 32
... cloud , But every mountain now hath found a tongue ; And Jura answers , through her misty shroud , Back to the joyous Alps , who call to her aloud ! 2. Oh ! teach me who is God , and where his glories shine , That I may kneel and pray ...
... cloud , But every mountain now hath found a tongue ; And Jura answers , through her misty shroud , Back to the joyous Alps , who call to her aloud ! 2. Oh ! teach me who is God , and where his glories shine , That I may kneel and pray ...
Página 39
... clouds and darkness rest upon it . Father ! Thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns . Thou Didst weave this verdant roof . Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth ; and forthwith rose All these fair ranks of trees . They in Thy ...
... clouds and darkness rest upon it . Father ! Thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns . Thou Didst weave this verdant roof . Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth ; and forthwith rose All these fair ranks of trees . They in Thy ...
Página 47
... Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather , And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand , Who leads us with a gentle hand Thither , O thither , Into the Silent Land ? 2. Slowly and sadly we laid him down , From the field of his ...
... Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather , And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand , Who leads us with a gentle hand Thither , O thither , Into the Silent Land ? 2. Slowly and sadly we laid him down , From the field of his ...
Página 49
... cloud . Violent Anger . 1. On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage 2 . O'ercame the ashen hue of age . Fierce he broke forth , - " And dar'st thou then To beard the lion in his den , The Douglas in his hall ? And hop'st thou hence ...
... cloud . Violent Anger . 1. On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage 2 . O'ercame the ashen hue of age . Fierce he broke forth , - " And dar'st thou then To beard the lion in his den , The Douglas in his hall ? And hop'st thou hence ...
Términos y frases comunes
Abraham Davenport ALICE CARY American arms beautiful Biddleville birds bless Boabdil born breath Brutus Bucky O'Neil cable Cæsar called carrier pigeon Cheyne child clouds dark dead death dream Duhobret earth Easter England eyes father fear feet flowers friends genius give Greeley hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven HENRY HENRY WARD BEECHER hills honor hour human hundred JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE king labor land leaves letter light live look Lord LYDIA MARIA CHILD miles mind morning mother nature never night noble o'er ocean pigeon Placerville poems poor postage stamps rich rise river RUDYARD KIPLING sail ship shore shout silent Sir Launfal soul sound speak stamp stood sweet tell thee things THOMAS CARLYLE thou thought thousand trees unto voice WASHINGTON IRVING wild wind words young
Pasajes populares
Página 291 - Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap, forlorn! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn!
Página 309 - Peace — but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish ? What would they have ? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery ? Forbid it, Almighty God ! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
Página 323 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
Página 102 - O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain!
Página 306 - Are we disposed to be of the number of those, who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation ? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth ; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
Página 340 - Break, break, break On thy cold gray stones, O sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!
Página 322 - Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world, — with kings, The powerful of the earth, — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Página 308 - If we wish to be free; if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges, for which we have been so long contending ; if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle, in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, — we must fight! — I repeat it, sir, we must fight ! An appeal to arms, and to the God of hosts, is all that is left us.
Página 258 - Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge, and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Página 301 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers: they to me Were a delight; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror, 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was, as it were, a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane, as I do here.