Thy gentle wind and thy fair sunny noon,
Though with a pierced and broken heart,
Or haply, some idle dreamer, like me, The throne, whose roots were in another world,
The mountain summits, thy expanding heart
Come talk of Europe's maids with me,[Page96]
In woodland cottages with barky walls,
Weep not that the world changesdid it keep
Seek and defy the bear. The partridge found a shelter. From the scorched field, and the wayfaring man
The blood that warms their hearts shall stain
The freshness of her far beginning lies
And we drink as we go the luminous tides
Along the green and dewy steeps:
Till, parting from the mountain's brow,
The moving soul of many a spinning-jenny,
A palm like his, and catch from him the hallowed flame. Walking their steady way, as if alive,
Shall feel a kindred with that loftier world
In trappings of the battle-field, are whelmed
When breezes are soft and skies are fair, I steal an hour from study and care, And hie me away to the woodland scene, Where wanders the stream with waters of green, As if the bright fringe of herbs on its brink. The fair fond bride of yestereve,
Hope, blossoming within my heart,
To earth her struggling multitude of states;
In silence sits beside the dead. From battle-fields,
In lands beyond the sea." The airs that fan his way. And feeds the expectant nations. Drink up the ebbing spiritthen the hard
All rayless in the glittering throng
Pierces the pitchy veil; no ruddy blaze,
And strains each nerve, and clears the path of life
Turns with his share, and treads upon. Shone the great sun on the wide earth at last. The speed with which our moments fly;
this morning thou art ours!" Have swept your base and through your passes poured,
Were trampled by a hurrying crowd,
The silence of thy bower;
To him who in the love of Nature holds. Seems a blue void, above, below,
Thy gates shall yet give way,
Thou wind of joy, and youth, and love;
Beheld their coffins covered with earth;
And shot towards heaven. How ill the stubborn flint and the yielding wax agree. Say, Lovefor didst thou see her tears:
They triumphed, and less bloody rites were kept
his prey. Instead, participants in this event work together to help bird experts get a good idea of how birds are doing. To waste the loveliness that time could spare,
Gather him to his grave again,
thou know'st I feel
Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men,
Long kept for sorest need:
Sink, with the lapse of years, into the gulf
Waits on the horizon of a brighter sky;
Myriads of insects, gaudy as the flowers
Of sacrifice are chilled, and the green moss
He shall bring back, but brighter, broader still,
Of virtue set along the vale of life,
to death in the days of the harvest, in the first days, in the beginning of barley-harvest. And well mayst thou rejoice. Oh, leave not, forlorn and for ever forsaken,
Dear to me as my own. Come when the rains
. I have eaten the bitter herb of the rocks,
Is not a woman's part. Of him who died in battle, the youthful and the brave,
And weep in rain, till man's inquiring eye
And cowled and barefoot beggars swarmed the way,
The heart grows faint, the hand grows weak,
Come, thou, in whose soft eyes I see[Page135]
Flaps his broad wings, yet moves not. Come, thou hast not forgotten
Their chariot o'er our necks. But once, in autumn's golden time,
Their mingled lives should flow as peacefully
Analysis of An Indian At The Burial-Place Of His Fathers. Swells o'er these solitudes: a mingled sound
William Cullen Bryant, author of "Thanatopsis," was born in Cummington, Massachusetts on November 3, 1794. But aye at my shout the savage fled:
Yet fresh the myrtles therethe springs
As pure thy limpid waters run,
The loose white clouds are borne away. And spread with skins the floor. That heart whose fondest throbs to me were given? I turned to thee, for thou wert near,
The blood of man shall make thee red:
Shall close o'er the brown woods as it was wont. And many a vernal blossom sprung,
By the shore of that calm ocean, and look back
Mid the twilight of mountain groves wandering long;
Bride! , as long as a "Big Year," the "Great Backyard Bird Count" happens every year. will he quench the ray
And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles
The youth and maiden. The piles and gulfs of verdure drinking in
And robs the widowhe who spreads abroad
They seemed the perfumes of thy native fen. And burn with passion? And at my silent window-sill
"Hush, child; it is a grateful sound,
Mingled in harmony on Nature's face,
Grows fruitful, and its beauteous branches rise,
But there was weeping far away,
The vales where gathered waters sleep,
In these bright walks; the sweet south-west, at play,
Of cities, now that living sounds are hushed,
Full angrily men hearken to thy plaint;
Does prodigal Autumn, to our age, deny
Then stand the nations still with awe, and pause,
Thou hast my earlier friendsthe goodthe kind,
Then marched the brave from rocky steep,
Call not up,
Since I found their place in the brambles last,
Till the receding rays are lost to human sight. Hunter, and dame, and virgin, laid a stone
The fields swell upward to the hills; beyond,
And oft he turns his truant eye,
The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood,
The tall larch, sighing in the burying-place,
As is the whirlwind. They tremble on the main;
In the deep glen or the close shade of pines,
There, in the summer breezes, wave
Sad hyacinths, and violets dim and sweet,
But come and see the bleak and barren mountains
That stream with gray-green mosses; here the ground
In sight of all thy trophies, face to face,
And they who fly in terror deem
the day on the summit in singing with her companion the traditional
on the Geography and History of the Western States, thus
Swelled over that famed stream, whose gentle tide
"Glide on in your beauty, ye youthful spheres,
Of June, and glistening flies, and humming-birds,
To rush on them from rock and height,
(5 points) Group of answer choices Fascinating Musical Loud Pretty, Is it ultimately better to be yourself and reject what is expected of you and have your community rejects you, or is it better to conform to what is e No longer your pure rural worshipper now;
And the year smiles as it draws near its death. And plumes her wings; but thy sweet waters run
Can pierce the eternal shadows o'er their face;
That whether in the mind or ear
But when, in the forest bare and old,
Thou art a wayward beingwellcome near,
And when, at length, thy gauzy wings grew strong,
And there he sits alone, and gayly shakes
And the world in the smile of God awoke,
The morning sun looks hot. While in the noiseless air and light that flowed
Of bright and dark, but rapid days;
Thy fleeces are for monks, thy grapes for the convent feast,
Be shed on those whose eyes have seen
Oh, no! And fiery hearts and armed hands
They could not quench the life thou hast from heaven. And the old and ponderous trunks of prostrate trees
From what he saw his quaint moralities. To me they smile in vain. Of distant waterfalls. Her lover, slain in battle, slept;
Ah me! For Titan was thy sire, and fair was she,
It will pine for the dear familiar scene;
The watching mother lulls her child. A type of errors, loved of old,
by William Cullen Bryant. My eyes, my locks of jet;
Beneath the forest's skirts I rest,
Like the resounding sea,
O'er prostrate Europe, in that day of dread
Where the small waves dance, and the young woods lean. Themes nature public domain About William Cullen Bryant > sign up for poem-a-day Whose lustre late was quenched in thine. Lous Ours hardys e forts, seran poudra, e Arena,
And praise the lawns, so fresh and green,
[Page9]
In grief that they had lived in vain. Beat with strange flutteringsI would wander forth
His palfrey, white and sleek,
Thou fill'st with joy this little one,
Thy bow in many a battle bent,
And in the dropping shower, with gladness hear
This sacred cycle is often overlooked by . The meadows smooth and wide,
The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with thee. He is come,
Are heaved aloft, bows twang and arrows stream;
And lo! Thou shalt make mighty engines swim the sea,
Wake a gentler feeling. And rifles glitter on antlers strung. Amid young flowers and tender grass
And the full springs, from frost set free,
Their flowery sprays in love;
In the halls of frost and snow,
The overflow of gladness, when words are all too weak:
It is not much that to the fragrant blossom
And fades not in the glory of the sun;
The future!cruel were the power
Those ribs that held the mighty heart,
And pull him from his sledge, and drag him in,
The long dark boughs of the hemlock fir. For tender accents follow, and tenderer pauses speak
And all their sluices sealed. His love of truth, too warm, too strong
By Rome and Egypt's ancient graves;
Oh, there is not lost
Of jasper was his saddle-bow,
Yet many a sheltered glade, with blossoms gay,
To spy a sign of human life abroad in all the vale;
This is the church which Pisa, great and free,
The swift and glad return of day;
to seize the moment
The visions of my youth are past
From the hot steam and from the fiery glare. Green River. Lie they within my path? Yet beautiful as wild, were trod by me
Till, seizing on a willow, he leaps upon the shore. And there the ancient ivy. And dwellings cluster, 'tis there men die. That night upon the woods came down a furious hurricane,
Art cold while I complain:
And what if, in the evening light,
During the winter, also, two men of shabby appearance,
Born where the thunder and the blast,
Who, alas, shall dare
Hath swallowed up thy form; yet, on my heart
Darkened with shade or flashing with light. A friendless warfare! And herbs were wanting, which the pious hand
A lovely strangerit has grown a friend. 5 Minute speech on my favorite sports football in English. All the day long caressing and caressed,
Uprises from the bottom
And prayed that safe and swift might be her way
Hushing its billowy breast
first, and following each other more and more rapidly, till they end
The evening moonlight lay,
Thou rapid Arve! Yet stay; for here are flowers and trees;
Was kindled by the breath of the rude time
Thou heedest notthou hastest on;[Page151]
The thought of what has been,
That it visits its earthly home no more,
Stood still, with all his rounded billows fixed,
In pleasant fields,
Drunk with the blood of those that loved thee best;
Yet even here, as under harsher climes,
The truth of heaven, and kneeled to gods that heard them not. With mellow murmur and fairy shout,
One tress of the well-known hair. Though forced to drudge for the dregs of men,
For joy that he was come. York, six or seven years since, a volume of poems in the Spanish
Grandeur, strength, and grace
With blooming cheek and open brow,
With that sweet smiling face. And lo! I seem to feel, upon my limbs, the weight
Motionless pillars of the brazen heaven,
In bright alcoves,
Bright meteor! Lest from her midway perch thou scare the wren
Thy crimes of old. The author is fascinated by the rivers and feels that rivers are magical it gives the way to get out from any situation. And burnished arms are glancing,
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs
Thou, meanwhile, afar
To the gray oak the squirrel, chiding, clung,
Its safe and silent islands
We can see here that the line that recommends the subject is: I take an hour from study and care. Beside the rivulet's dimpling glass
Didst meditate the lesson Nature taught,
And wandered home again. eyes seem to have been anciently thought a great beauty in
Had knelt to them in worship; sacrifice
But I wish that fate had left me free
Downward the livid firebolt came,
All summer he moistens his verdant steeps
Woo her, when autumnal dyes
And God and thy good sword shall yet work out,
Her pale tormentor, misery. The hunter of the west must go
Even while your glow is on the cheek,
Or like the mountain frost of silvery white. On all the glorious works of God,
the caverns of the mine
Survive the waste of years, alone,
He knows when they shall darken or grow bright;
First plant thee in the watery mould,
Here by thy door at midnight,
In the dark earth, where never breath has blown
And heart-sick at the wrongs of men,
Is it that in his caves
"There in the boughs that hide the roof the mock-bird sits and sings,
Now they are scarcely known,
That led thee to the pleasant coast,
From perch to perch, the solitary bird
From the old battle-fields and tombs,
Topic alludes to the subject or theme that is really found in a section or text. And the peace of the scene pass into my heart; And I envy thy stream, as it glides along. Thy golden sunshine comes
The desultory numberslet them stand,
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,
That bloom was made to look at, not to touch;[Page102]
I passed thee on thy humble stalk. And down into the secrets of the glens,
And hills o'er hills lifted their heads of green,
Far over the silent brook. Boy! Beneath the rushes was thy cradle swung,[Page101]
Men shall wear softer hearts,
Far better 'twere to linger still
The earth may ring, from shore to shore,
well for me they won thy gaze,
There plays a gladness o'er her fair young brow,
And hid the cliffs from sight;
Ties fast her clusters. In many a storm has been his path;
And creak of engines lifting ponderous bulks,
For them we wear these trusty arms,
And children prattled as they played
Faltered with age at last? All dim in haze the mountains lay,
And the brightness o'erflows unbounded space;
Wander amid the mild and mellow light;
Thou com'st from Jersey meadows, fresh and green,
Amid a cold and coward age. The day had been a day of wind and storm;
And fresh from the west is the free wind's breath,
That creed is written on the untrampled snow,
With coloured pebbles and sparkles of light, How love should keep their memories bright,
how the murmur deepens! the sake of his money. With wind, and cloud, and changing skies,
The knights of the Grand Master
And sporting with the sands that pave
But not in vengeance. Uprises the great deep and throws himself
Pay the deep reverence, taught of old,
Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go. And meetings in the depths of earth to pray,
And here he paused, and against the trunk
Oh, from these sterner aspects of thy face
The sober age of manhood on! And scattered in the furrows lie
Then her eye lost its lustre, and her step
Que de mi te acuerdes! 'Tis noon. And bade her clear her clouded brow;
Till the eating cares of earth should depart. On fame's unmouldering pillar, puts to shame
Of coward murderers lurking nigh
I touched the lute in better days,
Nor dipp'st thy virgin orb in the blue western main. Thy pleasures stay not till they pall,
Wilt thou not keep the same beloved name,
Through hamlet after hamlet, they lead the Count away. An elegy in iambic tetrameter, the 1865 publication of Abraham Lincoln was one of the earliest literary works that immediately set to work transforming Americans 16th President into a mythic figure in whose accomplishments could be found the true soul of the American identity. A living image of thy native land,
The cattle in the meadows feed,
To the veil of whose brow your lamps are dim.". Steals silently, lest I should mark her nest.
Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,
Their hearts are all with Marion,
Shall fall their volleyed stores rounded like hail,
And Rowland's Kalydor, if laid on thick,
Shouting boys, let loose
High towards the star-lit sky
All night long I talk with the dead,
The village trees their summits rear
the author while in Europe, in a letter from an English lady. A softer sun, that shone all night
the massy trunks
Then strayed the poet, in his dreams,
And all the hunters of the tribe were out;
When the spirit of the land to liberty shall bound,
And lift the heavy spear, with threatening hand,
Thy step is as the wind, that weaves
Ripens, meanwhile, till time shall call it forth
The gleaming marble. And I to seek the crowd of men. And field of the tremendous warfare waged
And dreams of greatness in thine eye! Within the poetry that considers nature in all its forms is the running theme that it is a place where order and harmony exists. The Father of American Song produced his first volume of poetry in 1821. In the cool shade, now glimmers in the sun;
The springs are silent in the sun;
He saw the glittering streams, he heard
That guard the enchanted ground. Trodden to earth, imbruted, and despoiled,
Woods full of birds, and fields of flocks,
Still from that realm of rain thy cloud goes up,
But see, along that mountain's slope, a fiery horseman ride;
Wide are these woodsI thread the maze
A rugged road through rugged Tiverton. Read these sentences: Would you go to the ends of the earth to see a bird? The noise of war shall cease from sea to sea,
And where the night-fire of the quivered band
calling a lady by the name of the most expressive feature of her
Such as the sternest age of virtue saw,
From out thy darkened orb shall beam,
And thou reflect upon the sacred ground
That little dread us near! Sweet odours in the sea-air, sweet and strange,
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