The World's Best-loved Poems
Harper & Brothers, 1927 - American poetry - 455 pages
A collection of religious and popular poems from well known and anonymous writers.
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angels Anon bear beauty bells bird bless blow blue breath busy close comes dark dead dear death deep door dream earth Elizabeth Barrett Browning Ella Wheeler Wilcox eyes face fair faith fall father fear feet flowers Forget give God's grave grow hand happy head hear heard heart heaven hills hold hope hour John keep kind King land laugh leaves light live look Lord meet mother never night o'er once pass peace rest Ring rocks rose round seems side silent sing sleep smile snow song soul sound speak stand stars strong sweet tears tell thee There's things thou thought tree true turn voice wait waves weary wind wrong young
Page 139 - I'd be Nearer, my GOD, to Thee, Nearer to Thee ! 3 There let the way appear Steps unto heaven, All that Thou sendest me In mercy given, Angels to beckon me Nearer, my GOD, to Thee, Nearer to Thee...
Page 220 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore...
Page 137 - The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple. The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart: the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes. The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever : the judgments of the Lord are true, and righteous altogether.
Page 286 - Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go mark him well...
Page 406 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying fleet — But hark! — that heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm! Arm! it is— it is — the cannon's opening roar!
Page 287 - WHEN Freedom from her mountain height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there. She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then from his mansion in the sun She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen land.
Page 166 - To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause; there's the respect...
Page 90 - Awaits alike the inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye Proud, impute to these the fault, If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
Page 194 - 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.
Page 101 - Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they? I pray you tell." She answered, "Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea; "Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.