Occasional Pieces of Poetry

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E. Bliss and E. White, 1825 - American poetry - 111 pages

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Page 6 - The sound of many waters;" and had bade Thy flood to chronicle the ages back, And notch His cent'ries in the eternal rocks. Deep calleth unto deep. And what are we, That hear the question of that voice sublime ? Oh ! what are all the notes that ever rung From war's vain trumpet, by thy thundering side ! Yea, what is all the riot man can make In his short life, to thy unceasing roar ! And yet, bold babbler, what art thou to Him, Who drown'da world, and heap'd the waters far Above its loftiest mountains...
Page 27 - THE breath of air that stirs the harp's soft string, Floats on to join the whirlwind and the storm ; The drops of dew exhaled from flowers of spring, Rise and assume the tempest's threatening form ; The first mild beam of morning's glorious sun, Ere night, is sporting in the lightning's flash ; And the smooth stream, that flows in quiet on, Moves but to aid the overwhelming dash That wave and wind can muster, when the might Of earth, and air, and sea, and sky unite.
Page 72 - By the festal cities blaze, Whilst the wine-cup shines in light ; And yet amidst that joy and uproar Let us think of them that sleep, Full many a fathom deep, By thy wild and stormy steep, Elsinore.
Page 104 - And the parched ground shall become a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water: in the habitation of dragons where each lay, shall be grass, with reeds and rushes.
Page 108 - Who scoff in your pride at your Maker's name, By the pebbly stream and the shady tree — Hope in your mountains, and hope in your streams, Bow down in their worship, and loudly pray ; Trust in your strength, and believe in your dreams, But the wind shall carry them all away.
Page 74 - The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze.
Page 51 - The sweet brier shall bloom, and the wild grape shall cluster, And o'er him the leaves of the ivy be shed. There shall they mix with the fern and the heather, There shall the young eagle shed its first feather, The wolves with his wild dogs shall lie there together, And moan o'er the spot where the hunter is laid.
Page 5 - THE thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain, While I look upward to thee. It would seem As if God poured thee from His hollow hand, And hung His bow upon thine awful front; And spoke in that loud voice, which seemed to him Who dwelt in Patmos for his Saviour's sake, The sound of many waters ; and had bade Thy flood to chronicle the ages back, And notch His centuries in the eternal rocks.
Page 50 - Where the snake in the swamp sucks its deadliest poison, . And the cat of the mountains keeps watch for its food ; But the leaf shall be greener, the sky shall be purer, The eye shall be clearer, the rifle be surer, And stronger the arm of the fearless endurer, That trusts nought but Heaven in his way through the wood.

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