John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
Feliia Dorothea (Browne) Hemans 1793-1835 John Bartlett
1 | |
The stately homes of England,— How beautiful they stand, Amid their tall ancestral trees, O’er all the pleasant land! | |
The Homes of England. | |
2 | |
The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed. | |
Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers. | |
3 | |
What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine, The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? They sought a faith’s pure shrine. | |
Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers. | |
4 | |
Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod: They have left unstained what there they found,— Freedom to worship God. | |
Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers. | |
5 | |
Through the laburnum’s dropping gold Rose the light shaft of Orient mould, And Europe’s violets, faintly sweet, Purpled the mossbeds at its feet. | |
The Palm-Tree. | |
6 | |
They grew in beauty side by side, They filled one home with glee: Their graves are severed far and wide By mount and stream and sea. | |
The Graves of a Household. | |
7 | |
Alas for love, if thou wert all, And naught beyond, O Earth! | |
The Graves of a Household. | |
8 | |
The boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had fled; The flame that lit the battle’s wreck Shone round him o’er the dead. | |
Casabianca. | |
9 | |
Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north-wind’s breath, And stars to set; but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death! | |
The Hour of Death. | |
10 | |
Come to the sunset tree! The day is past and gone; The woodman’s axe lies free, And the reaper’s work is done. | |
Tyrolese Evening Song. | |
11 | |
In the busy haunts of men. | |
Tale of the Secret Tribunal. Part i. | |
12 | |
Calm on the bosom of thy God, Fair spirit, rest thee now! | |
Siege of Valencia. Scene ix. | |
13 | |
Oh, call my brother back to me! I cannot play alone: The summer comes with flower and bee,— Where is my brother gone? | |
The Child’s First Grief. | |
14 | |
I have looked on the hills of the stormy North, And the larch has hung his tassels forth. | |
The Voice of Spring. | |
15 | |
I had a hat. It was not all a hat,— Part of the brim was gone: Yet still I wore it on. | |
Rhine Song of the German Soldiers after Victory. | |