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avskrift barn begynder billede bliver blott brev c'est dans derfor digt dikt diktning drama død Edda Egil Empire England English fall findes Finn forhold form Fröding føler følgende för første gamle gang ganske George Gerda give great grund hadde Harald heart helt hende Holberg holdt Håkon India interesse Ironie Italien Jøden kalder kenninger Kipling Kipling's lade land larmes levende Levertin life ligger liten little mand mennesket mind Musset møtet naturen næsten något oldtiden personer poem roman romantik Sagen Sand sendt senere sensibilité sensible sidste skrev skriver slut song sted Stella stil Strindberg strofe svensk Swift synes take taler tanker Tegnér things time Tycho Brahe tydeligt tænker verk vers virkelig viser Warburg Wergeland words Wordsworth work world write years
Page 209 - BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword. His truth is marching on! I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps; I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps; His day is marching on! I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished...
Page 409 - Heaven lies about us in our infancy. Shades of the prison-house begin to close Upon the growing boy; But he beholds the light and whence it flows, He sees it in his joy. The youth who daily farther from the East Must travel, still is Nature's priest, And, by the vision splendid, Is on his way attended. At length the man perceives it die away And fade into the light of common day.
Page 399 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue.
Page 414 - Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide; The Form remains, the Function never dies ; While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise, We Men, who in our morn of youth defied The elements, must vanish ; — be it so ! Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour ; And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
Page 210 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 245 - If I should die, think only this of me. That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England.
Page 224 - Beneath whose awful Hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget — lest we forget!
Page 401 - LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING. I HEARD a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did nature link The human soul that through me ran ; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man.
Page 402 - I, long before the blissful hour arrives, Would chant, in lonely peace, the spousal verse Of this great consummation — and, by words Which speak of nothing more than what we are, Would I arouse the sensual from their sleep Of Death, and win the vacant and the vain To noble raptures...