Gertrude of Wyoming

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J. B. Alden, 1883 - 179 Seiten
 

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Seite 151 - ON Susquehanna's side, fair Wyoming ! Although the wild-flower on thy ruin'd wall, And roofless homes, a sad remembrance bring Of what thy gentle people did befall ; Yet thou wert once the loveliest land of all That see the Atlantic wave their morn restore.
Seite 169 - And in the visions of romantic youth, What years of endless bliss are yet to flow ? But, mortal pleasure, what art thou in truth ? The torrent's smoothness, ere it dash below ! And must I change my song?
Seite 173 - Accursed Brandt ! he left of all my tribe Nor man, nor child, nor thing of living birth : No ! not the dog, that watched my household hearth, ' Escaped, that night of blood, upon our plains 1 All perished ! — I alone am left on earth ! To whom nor relative nor blood remains, No! — not a kindred drop that runs in human veins
Seite 153 - Alas ! poor Caledonia's mountaineer, That want's stern edict e'er, and feudal grief, Had forced him from a home he loved so dear ! Yet found he here a home, and glad relief, And plied the beverage from his own fair sheaf, That fired his Highland blood with mickle glee ; And England sent her men, of men the chief, "Who taught those sires of Empire yet to be, To plant the tree of life ; to plant fair freedom's tree...
Seite 178 - His face on earth ; — him watched in gloomy ruth His woodland guide ; but words had none to soothe The grief that knew not consolation's name : Casting his Indian mantle o'er the youth, He watch'd, beneath its folds, each burst that came Convulsive, ague-like across his shuddering frame ! 'And I could weep;
Seite 176 - Clasp me a little longer on the brink Of fate! while I can feel thy dear caress: And when this heart hath ceased to beat — oh! think, And let it mitigate thy woe's excess, That thou hast been to me all tenderness, And friend to more than human friendship just. Oh ! by that retrospect of happiness, And by the hopes of an immortal trust, God shall assuage thy pangs — when I am. laid in dust!
Seite 162 - Apart there was a deep untrodden grot, Where oft the reading hours sweet Gertrude wore ; Tradition had not named its lonely spot ; But here (methinks) might India's sons explore Their fathers...
Seite 178 - And I could weep," th' Oneyda chief His descant wildly thus begun, " But that I may not stain with grief The death-song of my father's son, Or bow this head in woe; For by my wrongs, and by my wrath, To-morrow Areouski's breath (That fires yon heaven with storms of death) Shall light us to the foe ; And we...
Seite 153 - Undimmed by weakness' shade, or turbid ire ! And though, amidst the calm of thought entire, Some high and haughty features might betray A soul impetuous once, 'twas earthly fire That fled composure's intellectual ray, As ./Etna's fires grow dim before the rising day.
Seite 152 - Then, where of Indian hills the daylight takes His leave, how might you the flamingo see Disporting like a meteor on the lakes...

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