Bryant Centennial, Cummington: August the Sixteenth 1894. November the Third 1794. November the Third 1894Clark W. Bryan Company, Printers, 1894 - 79 strani |
Druge izdaje - Prikaži vse
Bryant Centennial, Cummington: August the Sixteenth, 1894 Cummington (Mass.) Prikaz kratkega opisa - 1894 |
Bryant Centennial, Cummington: August the Sixteenth, 1894 Cummington (Mass.) Prikaz kratkega opisa - 1894 |
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
American Antisthenes autumn beauty Bigelow bird brothers Brown Bryant Homestead century cheerful chorus citizens climbed court Cummington death deep Emerson England eternal eyes flowers forests friends gathered gave genius glorious grave green grove happy heart hermit thrush honor human hundred years ago inspired John Bigelow JOHN WHITE CHADWICK Julia Ward lawyer LENOX AND TILDEN Lester Brown light lines listen lived Massachusetts meeting mind Monody mother mountain nature never noble o'er Old Homestead orchestra Parke Godwin passed patriot Peter Bryant Plainfield poem poet poet's poetry praise President PUBLIC LIBRARY ASTOR race region Rivulet seemed serene shadow singing song soul Stanley Hall stream sweet Thanatopsis Thee things thou thought TILDEN FOUNDATIONS to-day town tread trees verse voice vote Whittier William Cullen Bryant winds winter wonder woods words YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY youth
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 76 - That life was happy ; every day he gave Thanks for the fair existence that was his ; For a sick fancy made him not her slave, To mock him with her phantom miseries. No chronic tortures racked his aged limb, For luxury and sloth had nourished none for him. « And I am glad that he has lived thus long, And glad that he has gone to his reward ; Nor can I deem that nature did him wrong, Softly to disengage the vital cord.
Stran 17 - Far from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy, as may conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona.
Stran 23 - I STAND upon my native hills again, Broad, round, and green, that in the summer sky With garniture of waving grass and grain, Orchards, and beechen forests, basking lie, While deep the sunless glens are scooped between, Where brawl o'er shallow beds the streams unseen.
Stran 76 - Why weep ye then for him, who, having won The bound of man's appointed years, at last, Life's blessings all enjoyed, life's labors done, Serenely to his final rest has passed; While the soft memory of his virtues, yet, Lingers like twilight hues, when the bright sun is set?
Stran 11 - Blessings be with them — and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares—- The Poets, who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays ! Oh ! might my name be numbered among theirs, Then gladly would I end my mortal days.
Stran 38 - THE melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread...
Stran 19 - Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form; yet, on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, 30 In the long way that I must tread alone Will lead my steps aright.
Stran 40 - ... those brilliant seas of chrysolite and opal which often flood the New England skies ; and, while he was looking upon the rosy splendor with rapt admiration, a solitary bird made wing along the illuminated horizon. He watched the lone wanderer until it was lost in the distance, asking himself whither it had come and to what far home it was flying. When he went to the house where he was to stop for the night, his mind was still full of what he had seen and felt, and he wrote those lines, as imperishable...
Stran 23 - The mountain wind! most spiritual thing of all The wide earth knows ; when, in the sultry time, He stoops him from his vast cerulean hall, He seems the breath of a celestial clime ! As if from heaven's wide-open gates did flow Health and refreshment on the world below.
Stran 76 - Master, touch us with thy skilful hand ; Let not the music that is in us die '. Great Sculptor, hew and polish us ; nor let, Hidden and lost, thy form within us lie ! Spare not the stroke ! do with us as thou wilt ! Let there be naught unfinished, broken, marred ; Complete thy purpose, that we may become Thy perfect image, thou our God and Lord ! HORATIUS BO.NAR DIFFERENT MINDS.