PoemsRoberts Brothers, 1893 - 266 strani |
Vsebina
xiii | |
13 | |
19 | |
25 | |
31 | |
37 | |
43 | |
50 | |
139 | |
145 | |
151 | |
152 | |
158 | |
165 | |
171 | |
177 | |
55 | |
62 | |
71 | |
77 | |
83 | |
89 | |
95 | |
101 | |
107 | |
109 | |
115 | |
121 | |
127 | |
133 | |
183 | |
189 | |
191 | |
197 | |
204 | |
211 | |
217 | |
237 | |
244 | |
250 | |
252 | |
258 | |
264 | |
Druge izdaje - Prikaži vse
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
Asters bear birds blind blue weather Boon breast bright CHARLOTTE CUSHMAN Choy Choy's Christ CORTINA D'AMPEZZO cried crown dare dark dead dear death doth dream earth Émile Bayard Enone eyes face fair faithful fear feet fill fire flowers gate ghastly records glad God's gold GOLD COUNTRY golden GONDOLIEDS grapes grave grief hands hear heart HELEN JACKSON hills hour king king's KING'S SINGER knew land laughed lift light lips look Love's morn never night noon pain Paphnutius purple RESURGAM rose royal sail secret shadow shining shore SHOWBREAD sight silent sing Singer skies sleep slow smiling snow song soul sound stars stone sudden summer sunny sunny heights sweet Sweet bee sweet land swift tears tell thee thine things thou hast thought tide to-day tread vile bands voice wait weep wind wine words
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 13 - LIKE a blind spinner in the sun, I tread my days; I know that all the threads will run Appointed ways; I know each day will bring its task, And, being blind, no more I ask. I do not know the use or name Of that I spin: I only know that some one came, And laid within My hand the thread, and said, " Since you Are blind, but one thing you can do.
Stran 206 - The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down ; The gentian's bluest fringes Are curling in the sun ; In dusty pods the milkweed Its hidden silk has spun ; The sedges flaunt their harvest In every meadow nook, And asters by the brookside Make asters in the brook; From dewy lanes at morning The grapes...
Stran 154 - JOVEMBER woods are bare and still ; November days are clear and bright ; Each noon burns up the morning's chill ; The morning's snow is gone by night ; Each day my steps grow slow, grow light, As through the woods I reverent creep, Watching all things lie
Stran 255 - In idle golden freighting, Bright leaves sink noiseless in the hush Of woods, for winter waiting; When comrades seek sweet country haunts, By twos and twos together, And count like misers hour by hour, October's bright blue weather.
Stran 255 - OCTOBER'S BRIGHT BLUE WEATHER. SUNS and skies and clouds of June, And flowers of June together, Ye cannot rival for one hour October's bright blue weather, When loud the bumble-bee makes haste, Belated, thriftless vagrant, And golden-rod is dying fast, And lanes with grapes are fragrant ; When gentians roll their fringes tight To save them for the morning...
Stran 264 - Father, I scarcely dare to pray, So clear I see, now it is done, That I have wasted half my day, And left my work but just begun; " So clear I see that things I thought Were right or harmless were a sin ; So clear I see that I have sought, Unconscious, selfish...
Stran 16 - I could not see, As through the mists he hasted: "Poor child, what evil ones have hindered thee Till this whole day is wasted? Hath no man told thee that thou art joint heir With one named Christ, who waits the goods to share? " The one named Christ I sought for many days, In many places vainly...
Stran 135 - ROBINS call robins in tops of trees ; Doves follow doves with scarlet feet ; Frolicking babies, sweeter than these, Crowd green corners where highways meet. Violets stir and arbutus wakes, Claytonia's rosy bells unfold; Dandelion through the meadow makes A royal road, with seals of gold.
Stran 88 - Not as I will." Blindfolded and alone I wait; Loss seems too bitter, gain too late; Too heavy burdens in the load And too few helpers on the road, And joy is weak and grief is strong, And years and days so long, so long; Yet this one thing I learn to know Each day more surely as I go, That I am glad the good and ill By changeless law are ordered still, "Not as I will.
Stran 218 - Until the next stanch ship her flag doth raise. Who knows what myriad colonies there are Of fairest fields, and rich, undreamed-of gains Thick planted in the distant shining plains Which we call sky because they lie so far? Oh, write of me, not " Died in bitter pains," But