Oregon LiteratureJ.B. Horner, 1899 - 104 strani |
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ABIGAIL SCOTT DUNIWAY ages American angels Banks battle Beautiful Willamette Bible bright CALIFORNIA LIBRARY chum Bub Karaboo climate clouds COQUELLE Corvallis death Delazon Smith Duniway E. D. BAKER East Eastern echo forever friends genius gentle gold golden heart heaven hence Higginson Hines Homer Davenport hundred immortal Indian influence inspiring intellectual James O'Meara JAMES RUSSELL LOWEL Jason Lee Joaquin Miller John Minto land Let him sleep light literary lives Lowell ment mighty Minnie Myrtle Miller Mount Hood mountain nation nature night ocean old songs oration Oregon City OREGON LITERATURE Oregon pioneer Oregonian Pacific patriotic plains poem poet poetic poetry rain rivers Samuel L scenery sentiment shores silent sing soul spirit stand streams sung sweet Oregon talent thou thought tions UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA vales valley visions West Western Oregon wild women writ write
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Stran 37 - In men whom men condemn as ill I find so much of goodness still, 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 8 - The charming landscape which I saw this morning is indubitably made up of some twenty or thirty farms. Miller owns this field, Locke that, and Manning the woodland beyond. But none of them owns the landscape. There is a property in the horizon which no man has but he whose eye can integrate all the parts, that is, the poet.
Stran 60 - I have seen them give her ashes to the winds, regathering them again that they might scatter them yet more widely: but, when they turned to exult, I have seen her again meet them face to face, resplendent in complete steel and brandishing in her strong right hand a flaming sword, red with insufferable light.
Stran 62 - I too am a wave on a stormy sea; I too am a wanderer, driven like thee; I too am seeking a distant land To be lost and gone ere I reach the strand; For the land I seek is a waveless shore, And they who once reach it shall wander no more.
Stran 62 - It were vain to ask, as thou rollest afar, Of banner, or mariner, ship or star ; It were vain to seek in thy stormy face Some tale of. the sorrowful past to trace. Thou art swelling high, thou art flashing' free, How vain are the questions we ask of thee...
Stran 1 - Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound...
Stran 89 - The gold that with the sunlight lies In bursting heaps at dawn, The silver spilling from the skies At night to walk upon, The diamonds gleaming in the dew He never saw, he never knew. He got some gold, dug from the mud, Some silver, crushed from stones. The gold was red with dead men's blood, The silver black with groans ; And when he died he moaned aloud, " There '11 be no pocket in my shroud.
Stran 61 - Where the wave-whelmed mariner rocks in sleep ? Canst thou speak of navies that sunk in pride Ere the roll of their thunder in echo died ? What trophies, what banners, are floating free In the shadowy depths of that silent sea?
Stran 15 - In the bitter, moon-mad sea. In thy crystal deeps inverted Swings a picture of the sky, Like those wavering hopes of Aidenn, Dimly in our dreams that lie; Clouded often, drowned in turmoil, Faint and lovely, far away — Wreathing sunshine on the morrow Breathing fragrance round today. Love would wander Here and ponder, Hither poetry would dream; Life's old questions, Sad suggestions, Whence and whither?
Stran 14 - Spring's green witchery is weaving Braid and border for thy side; Grace forever haunts thy journey, Beauty dimples on thy tide; Through the purple gates of morning Now thy roseate ripples dance Golden then, when day, departing, On thy waters trails his lance, Waltzing, flashing, Tinkling, splashing, Limpid volatile and free — Always hurried To be buried In the bitter, moon-mad sea.