Hope Farm Notes

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Harcourt, Brace, 1921 - 234 Seiten
 

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Seite 59 - Come, Sleep, O Sleep, the certain knot of peace, The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, The indifferent judge between the high and low!
Seite 16 - I knew a very wise man so much of Sir Chr — 's sentiment, that he believed if a man were permitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a nation.
Seite 5 - 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, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright.
Seite 3 - Let me have men about me that are fat ; Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights. Yond' Cassius has a lean and hungry look ; He thinks too much : such men are dangerous.
Seite 91 - COME, all ye faithful, Joyful and triumphant ; O come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem ; Come and behold him Born, the King of angels : O come, let us adore him, O come, let us adore him, O come, let us adore him, Christ the Lord.
Seite 147 - ANNOUNCED by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, And veils the farm-house 'at the garden's end. The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Seite 17 - We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more, From Mississippi's winding stream and from New England's shore; We leave our ploughs and workshops, our wives and children dear, With hearts too full for utterance, with but a silent tear; We dare not look behind us, but steadfastly before : We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more...
Seite 148 - Between the andirons' straddling feet, The mug of cider simmered slow, The apples sputtered in a row, And, close at hand, the basket stood, With nuts from brown October's wood. What matter how the night behaved ? What matter how the north -wind raved ? Blow high, blow low, not all its snow Could quench our hearth-fire's ruddy glow.
Seite 59 - Despair at me doth throw; 0 make in me those civil wars to cease : 1 will good tribute pay, if thou do so. Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed ; A chamber, deaf to noise, and blind to light; A rosy garland, and a weary head. And if these things, as being thine by right, Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me Livelier than elsewhere Stella's image see.
Seite 5 - Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise.

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