Voices of the NightJohn Owen, 1839 - 144 pages |
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amid arms battle beaker behold bell Beware blows blue brave breast breath bright brooklet calm castle clouds dark dead Death DENMARK didst doth dreams dwell earth eternal fame fear flowerets flowers fooling thee forest gentle GERMAN glorious glory golden grave green hand hast heard heart heaven hills hoary holy hymn JOHN OWEN King leaves Life's look LOPE DE VEGA Manrique merrily merry step draws midnight MIDNIGHT MASS mist mournful murmur Night o'er Pentecost poem prayer psalm PURGATORIO red planet Mars Rhine Saxon shadows Silent Land silver sing slumber soft solemn song sorrows soul sound Spake spectral camp spirit steeds stern Swabian sweet Take thy banner tears tender thine Thither thou art thou dost thou shalt thou soundest thy merry step toil trees Uclés vale voice wave weary white-thorn wild winds wings woodland woods YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY youth
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Page 6 - Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife! Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act, — act in the living...
Page 7 - Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing Learn to labor and to wait.
Page 44 - Take thy banner ! — and if e'er Thou shouldst press the soldier's bier, And the muffled drum should beat To the tread of mournful feet, Then this crimson flag shall be Martial cloak and shroud for thee.
Page viii - PLEASANT it was, when woods were green, And winds were soft and low, To lie amid some sylvan scene, Where, the long drooping boughs between, Shadows dark and sunlight sheen, Alternate come and go.
Page 3 - Stoop o er me from above ; The calm, majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I love. I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, The manifold, soft chimes, That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, Like some old poet's rhymes.
Page 18 - Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous, God hath written in those stars above ; But not less in the bright flowerets under us Stands the revelation of his love. Bright and glorious is that revelation, Written all over this great world of ours ; Making evident our own creation, In these stars of earth, — these golden flowers.
Page 17 - SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
Page 91 - Thy blest approach, and oh ! to Heaven how lost, If my ingratitude's unkindly frost Has chilled the bleeding wounds upon thy feet. How oft my guardian angel gently cried, " Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see How he persists to knock and wait for thee...
Page 19 - Everywhere about us are they glowing, Some like stars, to tell us Spring is born : Others, their blue eyes with tears o'erflowing, Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn...
Page 13 - O fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know ere long, Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.