Songs of the Sierras and SunlandsW. B. Conkey, 1893 - 309 strani |
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a-wing afar beard beautiful bend Beneath birds black hand blood blown boughs bow'd brave breast breath bride brow brow lifted brown climb'd clouds clutch'd dare dark dead death deep desert DON CARLOS dust earth eyes face fair fell fierce follow'd fretted gather'd gazed gold grass grey hair hand head heart heaven hung Ishmaelite JOAQUIN MURIETTA kiss knew land lean'd lifted lips look look'd mane moon Mount Hood mountain never night o'er Old Morgan pass'd pine plain push'd reach'd rode round sand savage land sea of sand sea-king seem'd shining ship shore shout silent snow song soul sound stars steed stone stood storm stream strong sun tans sweet sweet bee swift tall things tide touch'd Toy'd trees turn'd Vasques wall wave weary white sea wild wind wood yellow
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 235 - In men whom men pronounce divine I find so much of sin and blot, I hesitate to draw a line Between the two, where God has not.
Stran 67 - Not a word, not a wail from a lip was let fall; Not a kiss from my bride, not a look...
Stran 70 - I looked to my left then, — and nose, neck, and shoulder Sank slowly, sank surely, till back to my thighs; And up through the black blowing veil of her hair Did beam full in mine her two marvelous eyes...
Stran 66 - While his eyes were like fire, his face like a shroud, His form like a king, and his beard like a cloud, And his voice loud and shrill, as if blown from a reed—* " Pull, pull in your lassos, and bridle to steed.
Stran 62 - One bloom of crimson crowned its head, A drop of blood, so bright, so red, Yet redolent as roses
Stran 156 - What strength! what strife! what rude unrest! What shocks! what half-shaped armies met! A mighty nation moving west, With all its steely sinews set Against the living forests.
Stran 60 - Success had made him more than king ; Defeat made him the vilest thing, In name, contempt or hate can bring : So much the leaded dice of war Do make or mar of character. Speak ill who will of him ; he died In all disgrace ; say of the dead His heart was black, his hands were red — Say this much, and be satisfied ; Gloat over it all undenied.
Stran 68 - Twenty miles! — thirty miles! — a dim distant speck — Then a long reaching line, and the Brazos in sight, And I rose in my seat with a shout of delight. I stood in my stirrup and...
Stran 69 - While his keen crooked horns, through the storm of his mane, Like black lances lifted and lifted again ; And I looked but this once, for the fire licked...
Stran 68 - Yet we broke not a whisper, we breathed not a prayer; There was work to be done, there was death in the air, And the chance was as one to a thousand for all.