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appear arms aspect aught bear beauty beneath better blood blue breast breath bright brow cheek clouds dark dead death deep dread dream earth eternal face fair fall father fear feel fire flowers gaze gentle glance gone grave half hand hath head hear heart heaven hope hour knew land leaves less light lips living lone look meet mind mountains nature ne'er never night o'er once pale passed passion past pride rest roll rose round scarce seem'd seems seen shine shore sigh sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stars stood sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand turn twas voice walls waters wave weep wild wind wing young youth
Side 66 - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone ! Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one...
Side 52 - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me, — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe — into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.
Side 66 - Must we but blush? Our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three To make a new Thermopylae ! What, silent still? and silent all? Ah! no — the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, "Let one living head, But one arise — we come, we come!
Side 148 - O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home!
Side 146 - Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Side 66 - On Suli's rock and Parga's shore Exists the remnant of a line Such as the Doric mothers bore ; And there, perhaps, some seed is sown, The Heraclcidan blood might own.
Side 117 - The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains. — Beautiful! I linger yet with Nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man ; and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn'd the language of another world.
Side 63 - Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, Along Morea's hills the setting sun: Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light!
Side 150 - He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender — kind, And grieved for those he left behind; With all the while a cheek whose bloom...