The Humbler Poets: A Collection of Newspaper and Periodical Verse, 1870 to 1885

Voorkant
Jansen, McClurg, 1886 - 459 pagina's

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Pagina 132 - The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle. Why not I with thine?-— See the mountains kiss high Heaven And the waves clasp one another...
Pagina 416 - From the silence of sorrowful hours The desolate mourners go, Lovingly laden with flowers Alike for the friend and the foe; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Under the roses the Blue, Under the lilies the Gray.
Pagina 191 - When I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me: for I had gone with the multitude, I went with them to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holyday.
Pagina 330 - It may be glorious to write Thoughts that shall glad the two or three High souls, like those far stars that come in sight Once in a century ; — But better far it is to speak One simple word, which now and then Shall waken their free nature in the weak And friendless sons of men...
Pagina 237 - But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart! God's plans like lilies pure and white unfold. We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart, Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.
Pagina 416 - Wet with the rain, the Blue; Wet with the rain, the Gray. Sadly, but not with upbraiding The generous deed was done ; In the storm of the years that are fading, No braver battle was won ; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day ; Under the blossoms, the Blue ; Under the garlands, the Gray.
Pagina 407 - Then fastened the meadow bars again. Under the willows, and over the hill, He patiently followed their sober pace ; The merry whistle for once was still, And something shadowed the sunny face. Only a boy ! and his father had said He never could let his youngest go ; Two already were lying dead Under the feet of the trampling foe.
Pagina 200 - WHEN the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight...
Pagina 78 - Ring out, ye crystal spheres ! Once bless our human ears, If ye have power to touch our senses so; And let your silver chime Move in melodious time ; And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
Pagina 303 - Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung! The word we had not sense to say — Who knows how grandly it had rung! "Our faults no tenderness should ask, The chastening stripes must cleanse them all; But for our blunders — oh, in shame Before the eyes of heaven we fall. "Earth bears no balsam for mistakes; Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool That did his will; but Thou, O Lord, Be merciful to me, a fool!

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