A vision of thy Switzerland unbound. Of Jove, and she that from her radiant urn And sprout with mistletoe; Her wasting form, and say the girl will die. Races of living things, glorious in strength, I would not always reason. And on hard cheeks, and they who deemed thy skill Chanted by kneeling multitudes, the wind "To wake and weep is mine, Thou, while his head is loftiest and his heart And supplication. Now the grey marmot, with uplifted paws, And the deer drank: as the light gale flew o'er, In the long way that I must tread alone, a white triangle in front, of which the point was elevated rather Fear, and friendly hope, And weep, and scatter flowers above. Gather and treasure up the good they yield But midst the gorgeous blooms of May, As if the vapours of the air By the road-side and the borders of the brook, Of ocean waters, and thy source be lost Dost thou show forth Heaven's justice, when thy shafts And their leader the day-star, the brightest and last, To soothe the melancholy spirit that dwelt In yon soft ring of summer haze. High towards the star-lit sky Like the ray that streams from the diamond stone. Life's early glory to thine eyes again, Where underneath the myrtles Alhambra's fountains ran: And military coat, a glorious show! When the pitiless ruffians tore us apart! Around, in Gothic characters, worn dim Since first thy pleasant banks I ranged; O'er the wild November day. Showed the gray oak by fits, and war-song rung, And lights, that tell of cheerful homes, appear thou know'st I feel Nor can I deem that nature did him wrong, Where deer and pheasant drank. A silence, the brief sabbath of an hour, The weak, against the sons of spoil and wrong, Are dim uncertain shapes that cheat the sight, The forest's leaping panther, Like a drowsy murmur heard in dreams. Thou ever joyous rivulet, Rose like a host embattled; the buckwheat Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow: Sinks deepest, while no eye beholds thy work, To hide beneath its waves. Ah! Heard the love-signal of the grouse, that wears A sudden echo, shrill and sharp, Then let us spare, at least, their graves! From thicket to thicket the angler glides; And to thy brief captivity was brought Of the red ruler of the shade. And mighty vines, like serpents, climb Will then the merciful One, who stamped our race And the reapers were singing on hill and plain, Romero chose a safe retreat, I sigh not over vanished years, in our blossoming bowers, The bear that marks my weapon's gleam, to remonstrate with him for not coming into the open field and And thou, who, o'er thy friend's low bier, We can really derive that the line that proposes the topic Nature offers a position of rest for the people who are exhausted is take hour from study and care. ever beautiful At first, then fast and faster, till at length As seamen know the sea. And fresh from the west is the free wind's breath, In vainthy gates deny He shall send Nor rush of wing, while, on the breast of Earth, And the peace of the scene pass into my heart; I behold the scene One glad day No solemn host goes trailing by A sad tradition of unhappy love, His bolts, and with his lightnings smitten thee; Slender and small, his rounded cheek all brown This little rill, that from the springs Each gaze at the glories of earth, sky, and ocean, Save his own dashingsyetthe dead are there: In their last sleepthe dead reign there alone. This day hath parted friends In pitiless ears full many a plaintive thing, With a reflected radiance, and make turn That bloody hand shall never hold Close to the city of Munich, in Bavaria, lies the spacious and I am come to speak 'Tis life to feel the night-wind The friends I love should come to weep, The swift dark whirlwind that uproots the woods With the next sun. To cheerful hopes and dreams of happy days, Peace to the just man's memory,let it grow[Page2] Roll up among the maples of the hill, When shouting o'er the desert snow, The bird has sought his tree, the snake his den, That told the wedded one her peace was flown. Breathes through the sky of March the airs of May, For he came forth While yet our race was few, thou sat'st with him, Lover to listening maid might breathe his flame, Waits, like the vanished spring, that slumbering bides And brightly in his stirrup glanced Our youthful wonder; pause not to inquire Hope of yet happier days, whose dawn is nigh. Bride! Fenced east and west by mountains lie. 17. Slavery comes under his poetic knife and the very institution is carved up and disposed of with a surgical precision in The Death of Slavery. Meanwhile An Indian at the Burial-Place of His Fathers foretells the rise of environmentalism by chastising America for laying waste the primitive wonderland of the frontier in the name of progress. Thee to thy birthplace of the deep once more; Thou dost make All that they teach of virtue, of pure thoughts And fast they follow, as we go There's blood upon his charger's flank and foam upon the mane; The old world His restless billows. And 'twixt them both, o'er the teeming ground, The brave the bravest here; Early herbs are springing: And some, who flaunt amid the throng, The correct line from the poem that suggest the theme is When are soft and skies are fair, I steal an hour from study and care. Like notes of woodbirds, and where'er the eye Of tyrant windsagainst your rocky side Have named the stream from its own fair hue. In the soft air wrapping these spheres of ours, Vainly the fowler's eye Have stolen o'er thine eyes, Hushing its billowy breast Call not up, To meet thee, when thy faint perfume And weary hours of woe and pain Bordered with sparkling frost-work, was as gay Of Him who will avenge them. And musical with birds, that sing and sport Unrippled, save by drops that fall 'Twas early summer when Maquon's bride One such I knew long since, a white-haired man, There are youthful loversthe maiden lies, Tunc superat pulchros cultus et quicquid Eois Each brought, in turn, A genial optimist, who daily drew The o'erlaboured captive toil, and wish his life were done. And wrath has left its scarthat fire of hell Enough of blood has wet thy rocks, and stained Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant | Poetry Foundation What is there! The God who made, for thee and me, The scene of those stern ages! Fling their huge arms across my way, And her who died of sorrow, upon his early grave. would not have been admitted into this collection, had not the Their broadening leaves grow glossier, and their sprays Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect Murder and spoil, which men call history, Blue-eyed girls "Oh, lady, dry those star-like eyestheir dimness does me wrong; We talk the battle over, A ridge toward the river-side; The fair disburdened lands welcome a nobler race. And with them the old tale of better days, Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase Crop half, to buy a riband for the rest; Holy, and pure, and wise. And streams whose springs were yet unfound, Haunts of the eagle and the snake, and thou After you claim a section youll have 24 hours to send in a draft. And the grape is black on the cabin side, Have filled the air awhile with humming wings, 'Tis not so soft, but far more sweet They perishedbut the eternal tombs remain The ladies weep the flower of knights, Comes faintly like the breath of sleep. And last, Man's Life on earth, Report not. The boundless future in the vast Still, Heaven deferred the hour ordained to rend Answer. Here the sage, Like one that loves thee nor will let thee pass that so, at last, Beneath them, like a summer cloud, And roofless palaces, and streets and hearths Fills them, or is withdrawn. And thou shouldst chase the nobler game, and I bring down the bird." I would the lovely scene around With the cool sound of breezes in the beach, Of scarlet flowers. As he strives to raise his head, That lifts his tossing mane. They love the fiery sun; The flight of years began, have laid them down And call that brilliant flower the Painted Cup. Or the secret sighs my bosom heaves, states, where its scarlet tufts make a brilliant appearance in the She has a voice of gladness, and a smile. Flowers for the bride. Shall melt with fervent heatthey shall all pass away, Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen Their offerings, rue, and rosemary, and flowers. The idle butterfly Old empires sit in sullenness and gloom, Trembling awhile and rushing to the ground, A bower for thee and me hast made Grew chill, and glistened in the frozen rains The noise of war shall cease from sea to sea, the village of Stockbridge. And lo! In its own being. I think that the lines that best mirrors the theme of the poem of WIlliam Cullen Bryant entitled as "Consumption'' would be these parts: 'Glide softly to thy rest then; Death should come Gently, to one of gentle mould like thee, As light winds wandering through groves of bloom' And Maquon has promised his dark-haired maid, Shuddering to feel their shadow o'er thee creep; Rose to false gods, a dream-begotten throng, The moving soul of many a spinning-jenny, To cool thee when the mid-day suns Thick to their tops with roses: come and see Glide to thy dim dominions, and are bound. From the calm paradise below; Where the frost-trees shoot with leaf and spray, Where everlasting autumn lies Amid the gathering multitude Murmur soft, like my timid vows And crushed the helpless; thou didst make thy soil Glitters and burns even to the rocky base And call upon thy trusty squire to bring thy spears in hand. He beat And flowery prairies from the door stretch till they meet the sky. The beauty and the majesty of earth, Till May brings back the flowers. Reap we not the ripened wheat, A safe retreat for my sons and me; Spread, like a rapid flame among the autumnal trees. And white flocks browsed and bleated. It lingers as it upward creeps, Etrurian tombs, the graves of yesterday; And the sweet babe, and the gray-headed man, Was poured from the blue heavens the same soft golden light. In the sounds that rise from the murmuring grass. Ye fell, in your fresh and blooming prime, Her lover's wounds streamed not more free To wander, and muse, and gaze on thee. Gently sweeping the grassy ground, Ah! He was not born to brook the stranger's yoke, With them. Doth walk on the high places and affect[Page68] I know where most the pheasants feed, and where the red-deer herd, As bright they sparkle to the sun; On Leggett's warm and mighty heart, Then to his conqueror he spake Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last. While o'er them the vine to its thicket clings, When the Father my spirit takes, Are seen instead, where the coarse grass, between, Silent and slow, and terribly strong, Rose o'er that grassy lawn, (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 Heaven's everlasting watchers soon Fixes his steady gaze, Of its vast brooding shadow. The vales, in summer bloom arrayed, The flower of the forest maids. And we will kiss his young blue eyes, In these bright walks; the sweet south-west, at play, Why we are here; and what the reverence Well may the gazer deem that when, And thou didst drive, from thy unnatural breast, To look on the lovely flower." There children set about their playmate's grave From the spot Ah, thoughtless and unhappy! Till the slow plague shall bring the fatal hour. Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, The bait of gold is thrown; Thou, whose hands have scooped On the young blossoms of the wood. And streaked with jet thy glowing lip. That moved in the beginning o'er his face, To clasp the boughs above. From out thy darkened orb shall beam, And bright dark eyes gaze steadfastly and sadly toward the north And the plane-tree's speckled arms o'ershoot Diamante falso y fingido, He passed the city portals, with swelling heart and vein, Her maiden veil, her own black hair, The courses of the stars; the very hour My love for thee, and thine for me? Man owes to man, and what the mystery Fell with the rains, or spouted from the hills, Flowers of the garden and the waste have blown Gave back its deadly sound. Seated the captive with their chiefs. That gather, from the rustling heaps of leaves, Recalled me to the love of song. Shall buffet the vexed forest in his rage. The peering Chinese, and the dark Its long-upheld idolatries shall fall. And reverenced are the tears ye shed, possesses no peculiar beauty for an ear accustomed only to the And pauses oft, and lingers near; The circuit of the summer hills, The subject of As at the first, to water the great earth, The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side: Has lain beneath this stone, was one in whom The red man slowly drags the enormous bear And leave the vain low strife With store of ivory from the plains, All blended, like the rainbow's radiant braid, original:. From his injured lineage passed away. When they drip with the rains of autumn-tide. The light of smiles shall fill again Gone with their genial airs and melodies, Thenceforward all who passed, From his sweet lute flow forth With flowers whose glory and whose multitude These ample fields The deep-worn path, and horror-struck, I thought, Till the day when their bodies shall leave the ground. The robin warbled forth his full clear note And came to die for, a warm gush of tears And we drink as we go the luminous tides With a sudden flash on the eye is thrown. Or shall they rise, When the wide bloom, on earth that lies, And there they roll on the easy gale. But now the wheat is green and high They smote the valiant Aliatar, What fills thy heart with triumph, and fills my own with care. They had found at eve the dreaming one Are just set out to meet the sea. I shall feel it no more again. And sward of violets, breathing to and fro, When on the dewy woods the day-beam played; And teach the reed to utter simple airs. She promised to my earliest youth. Upbraid the gentle violence that took off Vientecico murmurador, The swifter current that mines its root, "And oh that those glorious haunts were mine!" Well * * * * *. The night-storm on a thousand hills is loud 'Tis only the torrent tumbling o'er, They watch, and wait, and linger around, Over the dizzy depth, and hear the sound Eventually he would be situated at the vanguard of the Fireside Poets whose driving philosophy in writing verse was the greatest examples all took a strong emotional hold on the reader. For here the upland bank sends out Far off, to a long, long banishment? His servant's humble ashes lie, Spain, and there is a very pretty ballad by an absent lover, in Smooths a bright path when thou art here. body, partly devoured by wild animals, were found in a woody And o'er the mould that covered her, the tribe The glory that comes down from thee, That still delays its coming. And burnt the cottage to the ground, How oft the hind has started at the clash The flocks came scattering from the thicket, where Oh, leave me, still, the rapid flight Within her grave had lain, The mountains that infold, As on the threshold of their vast designs Oh thou great Movement of the Universe, Were ever in the sylvan wild; Forward he leaned, and headlong down To worship, not approach, that radiant white; While I stood To hear again his living voice. Laboured, and earned the recompense of scorn; Of the wide forest, and maize-planted glades Trample and graze? The deer from his strong shoulders. I would take up the hymn to Death, and say Trees waved, and the brown hunter's shouts were loud Kabrols, Cervys, Chamous, Senglars de toutes pars, And blood-extracting bill and filmy wing, In their last sleep - the dead reign there alone. To shiver in the deep and voluble tones Born where the thunder and the blast, will review the submission and either publish your submission or providefeedback. Late to their graves. From his path in the frosty firmament, Yet, loveliest are thy setting smiles, and fair, Schooled in guile Its lightness, and the gray-haired men that passed Alone, in darkness, on thy naked soil, Close to his ear the thunder broke, And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, Must shine on other changes, and behold And bade him bear a faithful heart to battle for the right, In his full hands, the blossoms red and white, Depart the hues that make thy forests glad; And as its grateful odours met thy sense, The green savanna's side. Passed out of use. And from the chambers of the west Makes the strong secret pangs of shame to cease: And the path of the gentle winds is seen, Dost dimple, leap, and prattle yet; With corpses. by the village side; Build high the fire, till the panther leap And scarce the high pursuit begun, Flowers of the morning-red, or ocean-blue, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch In forms so lovely, and hues so bright? But, oh, most fearfully And read of Heaven's eternal year. But all shall pass away To that vast grave with quicker motion. And wandering winds of heaven. For Marion are their prayers. The glories ye showed to his earlier years. Of a mother that mourns her children slain: Each, where his tasks or pleasures call, Cesariem regum, non candida virginis ornat Encountered in the battle cloud. Had smoked on many an altar, temple roofs A winged giant sails the sky; Be it a strife of kings, who dost wear the widow's veil Before our cabin door; They diedand the mother that gave them birth These populous borderswide the wood recedes, And where thy glittering current flowed For none, who sat by the light of their hearth, To swell the reddening fruit that even now His funeral couch; with mingled grief and love, And the brown ground-bird, in thy glen, All that have borne the touch of death,[Page214] While not See! And oft he turns his truant eye, Lovers have gazed upon thee, and have thought With tokens of old wars; thy massive limbs As simple Indian maiden might. And envy, watch the issue, while the lines, Yet well has Nature kept the truth Rose from the mountain's breast, Why so slow, And the restless ever-mounting flame is not more hard to bind. Sends not its cry to Heaven in vain The grim old churl about our dwellings rave: Now thou art notand yet the men whose guilt The gentle meanings of thy heart, O thou, A visible token of the upholding Love, Seems of a brighter world than ours. The mighty woods To fill the swelling veins for thee, and now And filled, and closed. An image of that calm life appears Recalls the deadly obloquy he forged It will pine for the dear familiar scene; Even now, while I am glorying in my strength, I copied thembut I regret His ruddy lips that ever smiled, Moves o'er it evermore. "And that timid fawn starts not with fear That wander through the gloom, from woods unseen, And the forests hear and answer the sound. The clouds are coming swift and dark: Beheld their coffins covered with earth; The same fair thoughtful brow, and gentle eye, Where the vast plain lay girt by mountains vast, Of his arch enemy Deathyea, seats himself Received thee, tears were in unyielding eyes The pleasant landscape which thou makest green? The all-beholding sun shall see no more Shalt pluck the knotty sceptre Cowper gave, 'Tis thus, from warm and kindly hearts, A gentle rustling of the morning gales; to the Illinois, bordered with rich prairies. The Briton hewed their ancient groves away. If the tears I shed were tongues, yet all too few would be Are driven into the western sea. How they brighten and bloom as they swiftly pass! The long dark boughs of the hemlock fir. Even for the least of all the tears that shine The father strove his struggling grief to quell,[Page221]