The Atlantic Monthly, Količina 13

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Atlantic Monthly Company, 1864
 

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Stran 225 - The wind'flower and the violet, they perished long ago, And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow; But on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, And the yellow sun-flower by the brook...
Stran 300 - I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed; But let me that plunder forbear, She will say 'twas a barbarous deed...
Stran 432 - Bring me my bow of burning gold ; Bring me my arrows of desire ; Bring me my spear : O clouds, unfold ; Bring me my chariot of fire. I will not cease from mental fight, Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant land.
Stran 537 - Our little habitation was situated at the foot of a sloping hill, sheltered with a beautiful underwood behind, and a prattling river before ; on one side a meadow, on the other a green.
Stran 382 - I must do it, as it were, in such weight, measure, and number, even so perfectly as God made the world, or else I am so sharply taunted, so cruelly threatened, yea, presently, sometimes with pinches, nips, and bobs, and other ways, which I will not name for the honour I bear them, so without measure misordered, that I think myself in hell, till time come that I must go to Mr.
Stran 426 - What the hammer ? what the chain ? In what furnace was thy brain ? What the anvil ? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp ? When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did he smile his work to see ? Did he who made the lamb make thee...
Stran 222 - midst grief began, And grew with years, and faltered not in death. Full many a mighty name Lurks in thy depths, unuttered, unrevered : With thee are silent fame, Forgotten arts, and wisdom disappeared.
Stran 225 - Come when the rains Have glazed the snow, and clothed the trees with ice ; While the slant sun of February pours Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach ! • The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps, And the broad arching portals of the grove Welcome thy entering. Look ! the massy trunks Are cased in the pure crystal ; each light spray, Nodding and tinkling in the breath of heaven, Is studded with its trembling water-drops, That glimmer with an amethystine light. But round the parent stem...
Stran 223 - THE stormy March is come at last, With wind, and cloud, and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast, That through the snowy valley flies. Ah, passing few are they who speak, Wild stormy month! in praise of thee ; Yet, though thy winds are loud and bleak, Thou art a welcome month to me. For thou, to northern lands, again The glad and glorious sun dost bring...
Stran 325 - I MOURN no more my vanished years : Beneath a tender rain, An April rain of smiles and tears, My heart is young again. The west- winds blow, and, singing low, I hear the glad streams run ; The windows of my soul I throw Wide open to the sun.

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