Her voice was like the song of birds; Her eyes were like the stars; Her little waving hands were like Birds’ wings that beat the bars. And when those waving hands were still,— Her soul had fled away,— The music faded from the air, The color from the day.
Great Nature is an army gay, Resistless marching on its way; I hear the bugles clear and sweet, I hear the tread of million feet. Across the plain I see it pour; It tramples down the waving grass; Within the echoing mountain-pass I hear a thousand cannon roar....
This bronze doth keep the very form and mould Of our great martyr’s face. Yes, this is he: That brow all wisdom, all benignity; That human, humorous mouth; those cheeks that hold Like some harsh landscape all the summer’s gold; That spirit fit for sorrow, as the sea For storms to beat...
When late I heard the trembling cello play, In every face I read sad memories That from dark, secret chambers where they lay Rose, and looked forth from melancholy eyes. So every mournful thought found there a tone To match despondence: sorrow knew its mate; Ill fortune sighed, and mute despair...
What is a sonnet? ’T is the pearly shell That murmurs of the far-off murmuring sea; A precious jewel carved most curiously; It is a little picture painted well. What is a sonnet? ’T is the tear that fell From a great poet’s hidden ecstasy; A two-edged sword, a star, a song,—ah me! Sometimes a...
THE Night was dark, though sometimes a faint star A little while a little space made bright. The night was long and like an iron bar Lay heavy on the land: till o’er the sea Slowly, within the East, there grew a light Which half was starlight, and half seemed to be The herald of a greater. The...
