National Series of Selections for Reading; Adapted to the Standing of the Pupil. Part 4, Volume 4

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Page 69 - With thee conversing I forget all time, All seasons and their change, all please alike : Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the sun When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glist'ring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild ; then silent night With this her solemn bird and this fair moon, And these the gems of heaven, her starry...
Page 357 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, — "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou/' I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore !
Page 357 - Tis the wind, and nothing more." Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not...
Page 357 - This it is and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, " Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you "—here I opened wide the door.
Page 358 - thing of evil— prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore, Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore!
Page 171 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
Page 69 - But neither breath of morn, when she ascends With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower, Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers; Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night, With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon, Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet But wherefore all night long shine these?
Page 35 - And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home...
Page 264 - There shall be sung another golden age, The rise of empire and of arts, The good and great inspiring epic rage, The wisest heads and noblest hearts, Not such as Europe breeds in her decay, Such as she bred when fresh and young, When heavenly flame did animate her clay, By future poets shall be sung. Westward the course of empire takes its way; The four first acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day : Time's noblest offspring is the last.
Page 358 - thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted On this home by Horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!

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