ISBN: 9780217583336

This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1893. Not illustrat… More...

This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1893. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... LEGENDARY. THE MERRIMACK. [ The Indians speak of a beautiful river, far to the South, which they call Merrimack. -- Sieur dE MONTS, 1604.] Stream of my fathers! sweetly still The sunset rays thy valley fill; Poured slantwise down the long defile, Wave, wood, and spire beneath them smile. I see the winding Powow fold The green hill in its belt of gold, And following down its wavy line, Its sparkling waters blend with thine. There''s not a tree upon thy side, Nor rock, which thy returning tide As yet hath left abrupt and stark Above thy evening water-mark; No calm cove with its rocky hem, No isle whose emerald swells begem Thy broad, smooth current; not a sail Bowed to the freshening ocean gale; No small boat with its busy oars, Nor gray wall sloping to thy shores; Nor farm-house with its maple shade, Or rigid poplar colonnade, But lies distinct and full in sight, Beneath this gush of sunset light. Centuries ago, that harbor-bar, Stretching its length of foam afar, And Salisbury''s beach of shining sand, And yonder island''s wave-smoothed strand, Saw the adventurer''s tiny sail Flit, stooping from the eastern gale; 1 And o''er these woods and waters broke The cheer from Britain''s hearts of oak, As brightly on the voyager''s eye, Weary of forest, sea, and sky, Breaking the dull continuous wood, The Merrimack rolled down his flood; Mingling that clear pellucid brook, Which channels vast Agioochook When spring-time''s sun and shower unlock The frozen fountains of the rock, And more abundant waters given From that pure lake, The Smile of Heaven, 3 Tributes from vale and mountain side -- With ocean''s dark, eternal tide! On yonder rocky cape, which braves The stormy challenge of the waves, Midst tangled vine and dwarfish wood, The hardy Anglo-Saxon stood, 1 The celebrated ... John Greenleaf Whittier, Books, History, The Early Poems of John Greenleaf Whittier Books>History Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: III. ? The Daughter. The soot-black brows of men ? the yell Of women thronging round the bed ? The tinkling charm of ring and shell ? The Powah whispering o'er the dead! ? All these the Sachem's home had known, When, on her journey long and wild To the dim World of Souls, alone, In her young beauty passed the mother of his child. Three bow-shots from the Sachem's dwelling They laid her in the walnut shade. Where a green hillock gently swelling Her fitting mound of burial made. There trailed the vine in Summer hours ? The tree-perched squirrel dropped his shell ? On velvet moss and pale-hued flowers, Woven with leaf and spray, the softened sunshine fell! The Indian's heart is hard and cold ? It closes darkly o'er its care, And, formed in Nature's sternest mould, Is slow to feel, and strong to bear. The war-paint on the Sachem's face, Unwet with tears, shone fierce and red, And, still in battle or in chase, Dry leaf and snow-rime crisped beneath his foremost tread. Yet, when her name was heard no more, And when the robe her mother gave, And small, light moccasin she wore, Had slowly wasted on her grave, Unmarked of him the dark maids sped Their sunset dance and moon-lit play; No other shared his lonely bed, i'o other fair young head upon his bosom lay. A lone, stern man. Yet, as sometimes The tempest-smitten tree receives From one small root the sap which climbs Its topmost spray and crowning leaves, So from his child the Sachem drew A life of Love and Hope, and felt His cold and rugged nature through The softness and the warmth of her young being melt. A laugh which in the woodland rang Bemocking April's gladdest bird ? A light and graceful form which sprang To meet him when his step was heard ? Eyes by ...<

ISBN: 9780217583336

This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1893. Not illustrat… More...

This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1893. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... LEGENDARY. THE MERRIMACK. [ The Indians speak of a beautiful river, far to the South, which they call Merrimack. -- Sieur dE MONTS, 1604.] Stream of my fathers! sweetly still The sunset rays thy valley fill; Poured slantwise down the long defile, Wave, wood, and spire beneath them smile. I see the winding Powow fold The green hill in its belt of gold, And following down its wavy line, Its sparkling waters blend with thine. There''s not a tree upon thy side, Nor rock, which thy returning tide As yet hath left abrupt and stark Above thy evening water-mark; No calm cove with its rocky hem, No isle whose emerald swells begem Thy broad, smooth current; not a sail Bowed to the freshening ocean gale; No small boat with its busy oars, Nor gray wall sloping to thy shores; Nor farm-house with its maple shade, Or rigid poplar colonnade, But lies distinct and full in sight, Beneath this gush of sunset light. Centuries ago, that harbor-bar, Stretching its length of foam afar, And Salisbury''s beach of shining sand, And yonder island''s wave-smoothed strand, Saw the adventurer''s tiny sail Flit, stooping from the eastern gale; 1 And o''er these woods and waters broke The cheer from Britain''s hearts of oak, As brightly on the voyager''s eye, Weary of forest, sea, and sky, Breaking the dull continuous wood, The Merrimack rolled down his flood; Mingling that clear pellucid brook, Which channels vast Agioochook When spring-time''s sun and shower unlock The frozen fountains of the rock, And more abundant waters given From that pure lake, The Smile of Heaven, 3 Tributes from vale and mountain side -- With ocean''s dark, eternal tide! On yonder rocky cape, which braves The stormy challenge of the waves, Midst tangled vine and dwarfish wood, The hardy Anglo-Saxon stood, 1 The celebrated ... John Greenleaf Whittier, Books, History, The Early Poems of John Greenleaf Whittier Books>History, General Books LLC<

ISBN: 9780217583336

[ED: Taschenbuch], [PU: Cambridge Scholars Publishing], Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. Th… More...

[ED: Taschenbuch], [PU: Cambridge Scholars Publishing], Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: III. ? The Daughter. The soot-black brows of men ? the yell Of women thronging round the bed ? The tinkling charm of ring and shell ? The Powah whispering o'er the dead! ? All these the Sachem's home had known, When, on her journey long and wild To the dim World of Souls, alone, In her young beauty passed the mother of his child. Three bow-shots from the Sachem's dwelling They laid her in the walnut shade. Where a green hillock gently swelling Her fitting mound of burial made. There trailed the vine in Summer hours ? The tree-perched squirrel dropped his shell ? On velvet moss and pale-hued flowers, Woven with leaf and spray, the softened sunshine fell! The Indian's heart is hard and cold ? It closes darkly o'er its care, And, formed in Nature's sternest mould, Is slow to feel, and strong to bear. The war-paint on the Sachem's face, Unwet with tears, shone fierce and red, And, still in battle or in chase, Dry leaf and snow-rime crisped beneath his foremost tread. Yet, when her name was heard no more, And when the robe her mother gave, And small, light moccasin she wore, Had slowly wasted on her grave, Unmarked of him the dark maids sped Their sunset dance and moon-lit play No other shared his lonely bed, i'o other fair young head upon his bosom lay. A lone, stern man. Yet, as sometimes The tempest-smitten tree receives From one small root the sap which climbs Its topmost spray and crowning leaves, So from his child the Sachem drew A life of Love and Hope, and felt His cold and rugged nature through The softness and the warmth of her young being melt. A laugh which in the woodland rang Bemocking April's gladdest bird ? A light and graceful form which sprang To meet him when his step was heard ? Eyes by ...Versandfertig in 6-10 Tagen, [SC: 0.00]<

ISBN: 9780217583336

[ED: Taschenbuch], [PU: Cambridge Scholars Publishing], Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. Th… More...

[ED: Taschenbuch], [PU: Cambridge Scholars Publishing], Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: III. ? The Daughter. The soot-black brows of men ? the yell Of women thronging round the bed ? The tinkling charm of ring and shell ? The Powah whispering o'er the dead! ? All these the Sachem's home had known, When, on her journey long and wild To the dim World of Souls, alone, In her young beauty passed the mother of his child. Three bow-shots from the Sachem's dwelling They laid her in the walnut shade. Where a green hillock gently swelling Her fitting mound of burial made. There trailed the vine in Summer hours ? The tree-perched squirrel dropped his shell ? On velvet moss and pale-hued flowers, Woven with leaf and spray, the softened sunshine fell! The Indian's heart is hard and cold ? It closes darkly o'er its care, And, formed in Nature's sternest mould, Is slow to feel, and strong to bear. The war-paint on the Sachem's face, Unwet with tears, shone fierce and red, And, still in battle or in chase, Dry leaf and snow-rime crisped beneath his foremost tread. Yet, when her name was heard no more, And when the robe her mother gave, And small, light moccasin she wore, Had slowly wasted on her grave, Unmarked of him the dark maids sped Their sunset dance and moon-lit play No other shared his lonely bed, i'o other fair young head upon his bosom lay. A lone, stern man. Yet, as sometimes The tempest-smitten tree receives From one small root the sap which climbs Its topmost spray and crowning leaves, So from his child the Sachem drew A life of Love and Hope, and felt His cold and rugged nature through The softness and the warmth of her young being melt. A laugh which in the woodland rang Bemocking April's gladdest bird ? A light and graceful form which sprang To meet him when his step was heard ? Eyes by ...Versandfertig in 6-10 Tagen, [SC: 0.00]<