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actually already American appear artistic beautiful born Boston brief called career century certainly chapter character Charles chief Civil close course creative critical death early edition effect Emerson England English especially essays familiar famous favorite feeling field fully George give hand happy Hawthorne Hawthorne's Henry History Holmes Houghton human imagination interest Italy John known land later least less letters literary literature lived Longfellow Lowell Lowell's lyric means memory Miss moral nature never once oration original perhaps poems poet poetic poetry political popular present printed Professor prose published Puritan Quaker reader remarkable romance seems shared sketches social speech story student success thought tion true truth utterance verse vols volume Whittier whole widely women writer written York young youth
Page 30 - Ring out, ye crystal spheres ! Once bless our human ears, If ye have power to touch our senses so; And let your silver chime Move in melodious time ; And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
Page 136 - DAUGHTERS of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring diadems and fagots in their hands. To each they offer gifts after his will, Bread, kingdoms, stars, and sky that holds them all. I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp, Forgot my morning wishes, hastily Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day Turned and departed silent. I, too late, Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.
Page 93 - Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun; the vales, Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods; rivers that move In majesty ; and the complaining brooks, That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste,— Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.
Page 303 - twill live in song and story, Though its folds are in the dust : For its fame on brightest pages, Penned by poets and by sages, Shall go sounding down the ages — Furl its folds though now we must. Furl that Banner, softly, slowly ! Treat it gently — it is holy — For it droops above the dead. Touch it not — unfold it never, Let it droop there, furled forever, For its people's hopes are dead...
Page 62 - They saw their injured country's woe; The flaming town, the wasted field ; Then rushed to meet the insulting foe; They took the spear— but left the shield.
Page 306 - Oh, help us, Lord! to roll the crimson flood Back on its course, and, while our banners wing Northward, strike with us! till the Goth shall cling To his own blasted altar-stones, and crave Mercy; and we shall grant it, and dictate The lenient future of his fate There, where some rotting ships and crumbling quays Shall one day mark the Port which ruled the Western seas.
Page 184 - Nor mine the seer-like power to show The secrets of the heart and mind; To drop the plummet-line below Our common world of joy and woe, A more intense despair or brighter hope to find.
Page 130 - I could not possibly give you one of the 'arguments' you cruelly hint at, on which any doctrine of mine stands. For I do not know what arguments mean, in reference to any expression of a thought. I delight in telling what I think ; but, if you ask me how I dare say so, or, why it is so, I am the most helpless of mortal men.