32 quotes
The breaking waves dashed high
On a stern and rock-bound coast,
And the woods against a stormy sky
Their giant branches tossed.
The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers (1826)
Gird your hearts with silent fortitude, Suffering, yet hoping all things.
Calm on the bosom of thy God,
Fair spirit, rest thee now!
The Siege of Valencia (1823)
"Passing away" is written on the world and all the world contains.
The woodman's axe lies free,
And the reaper's work is done.
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 (1824)
The stately Homes of England,
How beautiful they stand!
Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
O'er all the pleasant land.
There's beauty all around our paths, if but our watchful eyes
Can trace it 'midst familiar things, and through their lowly guise.
The flames roll'd on-he would not go
Without his father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
I have looked on the hills of the stormy North,
And the larch has hung his tassels forth.
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.
The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers (1826)
I am free! I have burst through my heavy chain,
The life of young eagles is mine again!
Alas! for love, if thou art all,
And nought beyond, O earth.
* There is none,
In all this cold and hollow world, no fount
Of deep, strong, deathless love, save that within
A mother's heart.
Ay, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod;
They have left unstained what there they found —
Freedom to whorship God.
The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers (1826)
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.
Alas for love, if thou wert all,
And naught beyond, O Earth!
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 (1828)
And the heavy night hung dark,
The hills and waters o'er,
When a band of exiles moored their bark
On the wild New England shore.
The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers (1826)
We pine for kindred natures
To mingle with our own.