{"1": {"fulltext": "fli^l^gi^;^\\nU^u:^. ir:.^tr\\nc;;^;i:!^;;;:\\nii-ae", "height": "2906", "width": "1846", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.\\nCliap, Cop3Tiglit ]^o._\\nSlielf._..._G_\\nUNITED STATES OF AMERICA.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "36550\\nLibrary of Congress\\nIwo Copies Received\\nAUG 20 1900\\nCopyright entry\\nSECOND COPY.\\nDelivered to\\nORDER DIVISION,\\n_AIIG ^7 1900-1\\nCopyright, 1900, by W. B. Conkey Company.\\n68745", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "3^\\nCONTENTS.\\nPAGE.\\nPrelude 7\\nVoices of the Night.\\nHymn to the Night 15\\nA Psalm of Life 17\\nThe Reaper and the Flowers 19\\nThe Light of the Stars 21\\nFootsteps of Angels 23\\nFlowers 25\\nThe Beleaguered City 28\\nMidnight Mass for the Dying Year 31\\nEarlier PoEms.\\nAn April Day 37\\nAutumn 39\\nWoods in Winter 41\\nHymn of the Moravian^Nuns of Bethlehem 43\\nSunrise on the Hills 45\\nThe Spirit of Poetry 47\\nBurial of the Minnisink 50\\nTranslations.\\nCoplas de Manrique 55\\nThe Good Shepherd 77\\nTo-morrow 78\\nThe Native Land 79\\n3", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "4 CONTENTS.\\nPAGE.\\nThe Image of God 80\\nThe Brook 81\\nThe Celestial Pilot 8a\\nThe Terrestrial Paradise 84\\nBeatrice 86\\nSpring 89\\nThe Child Asleep 91\\nThe Grave 93\\nKing Christian 95\\nThe Happiest Land 97\\nThe Wave 99\\nThe Dead 100\\nThe Bird and the Ship loi\\nWhither? 103\\nBeware 103\\nSong of the Bell 107\\nThe Castle by the Sea 109\\nThe Black Knight iii\\nSong of the Silent Land 114\\nL Envoi 115\\nBallads and Other Poems.\\nPreface 119\\nThe Skeleton in Armor 132\\nThe Wreck of the Hesperus 141\\nThe Luck of Edenhall 145\\nThe Elected Knight 148\\nThe Children of the Lord s Supper 151\\nMiscellaneous.\\nThe Village Blacksmith 179\\nEndymion 182\\nThe Two Locks of Hair 184", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS. 5\\nPAGE.\\nIt Is Not Always May i86\\nThe Rainy Day i88\\nGod s-Acre 189\\nTo the River Charles 191\\nThe Goblet of Life 193\\nMaidenhood 196\\nExcelsior 199\\nBlind Bartimeus 201\\nPoems on Slavery.\\nTo William E. Channing 205\\nThe Slave s Dream 207\\nThe Good Part, That Shall Not Be Taken Away. 210\\nThe Slave in the Dismal Swamp 212\\nThe Slave Singing at Midnight 214\\nThe Witness 216\\nThe Quadroon Girl 218\\nThe Warning 221", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "PRELUDE.\\nPleasant it was, when woods were green,\\nAnd winds were soft and low,\\nTo lie amid some sylvan scene,\\nWhere, the long drooping boughs between.\\nShadows dark and sunlight sheen\\nAlternate come and go\\nOr where the denser grove receives\\nNo sunlight from above.\\nBut the dark foliage interweaves\\nIn one unbroken roof of leaves,\\nUnderneath whose sloping eaves\\nThe shadows hardly move.\\nBeneath some patriarchal tree\\nI lay upon the ground\\nHis hoary arms uplifted he\\nAnd all the broad leaves over me\\nClapped their little hands in glee,\\nWith one continuous sound\\nA slumberous sound, a sound that brings\\nThe feelings of a dream,\\n7", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nAs of innumerable wings,\\nAs when a bell no longer swings,\\nFaint the hollow murmur rings\\nO er meadow, lake, and stream.\\nAnd dreams of that which cannot die,\\nBright visions, came to me.\\nAs lapped in thought I used to lie,\\nAnd gaze into the summer sky.\\nWhere the sailing clouds went by,\\nLike ships upon the sea\\nDreams that the soul of youth engage\\nEre Fancy has been quelled\\nOld legends of the monkish page.\\nTraditions of the saint and sage.\\nTales that have the rime of age,\\nAnd chronicles of Eld.\\nAnd, loving still these quaint old themes,\\nEven in the city s throng\\nI feel the freshness of the streams,\\nThat, crossed by shades and sunny gleams,\\nWater the green land of dreams,\\nThe holy land of song.\\nTherefore, at Pentecost, which brings\\nThe Spring, clothed like a bride.\\nWhen nestling buds unfold their wings.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nAnd bishops* caps have golden rings,\\nMusing upon many things,\\nI sought the woodlands wide.\\nThe green trees whispered low and mild\\nIt was a sound of joy!\\nThey were my playmates when a child,\\nAnd rocked me in their arms so wild\\nStill they looked at me and smiled,\\nAs if I were a boy\\nAnd ever whispered, mild and low,\\nCome, be a child once more!\\nAnd waved their long arms to and fro,\\nAnd beckoned solemnly and slow\\nO, I could not choose but go\\nInto the woodlands hoar\\nInto the blithe and breathing air.\\nInto the solemn wood,\\nSolemn and silent everywhere\\nNature with folded hands seemed there,\\nKneeling at her evening prayer!\\nLike one in prayer I stood.\\nBefore me rose an avenue\\nOf tall and sombrous pines\\nAbroad their fan-like branches grew,\\nAnd, where the sunshine darted through,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "10 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nSpread a vapor soft and blue,\\nIn long and sloping lines.\\nAnd, falling on my weary brain,\\nLike a fast-falling shower.\\nThe dreams of youth came back again\\nLow lispings of the summer rain,\\nDropping on the ripened grain.\\nAt once upon the flower.\\nVisions of childhood Stay, O stay.\\nYe were so sweet and wild!\\nAnd distant voices seemed to say,\\nIt cannot be! They pass away!\\nOther themes demand thy lay;\\nThou art no more a child\\nThe land of Song within thee lies,\\nWatered by living springs;\\nThe lids of Fancy s sleepless eyes\\nAnd gates unto that Paradise,\\nHoly thoughts, like stars, arise.\\nIts clouds are angels wings.\\nLearn, that henceforth thy song shall be,\\nNot mountains capped with snow,\\nNor forests sounding like the sea.\\nNor rivers flowing ceaselessly,\\nWhere the woodlands bend to see\\nThe bending heavens below.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 11\\nThere is a forest where the din\\nOf iron branches sounds!\\nA mighty river roars between,\\nAnd whosoever looks therein\\nSees the heavens all black with sin.\\nSees not its depths, nor bounds.\\nAthwart the -swinging branches cast\\nSoft rays of sunshine pour\\nThen comes the fearful wintry blast\\nOur hopes, like withered leaves, fall fast\\nPallid lips say, It is past\\nWe can return no more\\nLook, then, into thine heart, and write!\\nYes, into Life s deep stream!\\nAll forms of sorrow and delight.\\nAll solemn Voices of the Night,\\nThat can soothe thee, or affright,\\nBe these henceforth thy theme.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "VOICES OF THE NIGHT.\\n13", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "HYMN TO THE NIGHT.\\nI heard the trailing garments of the Night\\nSweep tHrough h\u00e2\u0082\u00acr xnarble fialls\\nI saw her sable skirts all fringed with light\\nFrom the celestial walls!\\nI felt her presence, by its spell of might,\\nStoop o er me from above\\nThe calm, majestic presence of the Night,\\nAs of the one I love.\\nI heard the sounds of sorrow and delight,\\nThe manifold, soft chimes.\\nThat fill the haunted chambers of the Night,\\nLike some old poet s rhymes.\\nFrom the cool cisterns of the midnight air\\nMy spirit drank repose\\nThe fountain of perpetual peace flows there,\\nFrom those deep cisterns flows.\\nO holy Night! from thee I learn to bear\\nWhat man has borne before\\nThou layest thy finger on the lips of Care,\\nAnd they complain no more.\\n15", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "16 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nPeace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this\\nprayer\\nDescend with broad-winged flight,\\nThe welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most\\nfair,\\nThe best-beloved Night!\\nI", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. IT\\nA PSALM OF LIFE.\\nWa -j -^UNG MAN SAID TO\\nTell me not, Jn mournful numbers,\\nife is but an empty dream!\\n1\u00c2\u00abL. the soul is dead that slumbers,\\nAnd things are not what they seem.\\nLife is real Life is earnest\\nAnd the grave is not its goal\\n**Dust thou art, to dust returnest,\\nWas not spoken of the soul.\\nNot enjoyment, and not sorrow.\\nIs our destined end or way\\nBut to act, that each to-morrow\\nFind us farther than to-day.\\nArt is long, and Time is fleeting.\\nAnd our hearts, though stout and brave,\\nStill, like muffled drums, are beating\\nFuneral marches to the grave.\\n2 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "n LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nIn the world s broad field of battle,\\nIn the bivouac of Life,\\nBe not like dumb, driven cattle\\nBe a hero in the strife\\nTrust no Future, howe er pleasant!\\nLet the dead Past bury its dead\\nAct, act in the living* Present!\\nHeart within, and Gjd o erhead!\\nLives of great men all remind us\\nWe can make our lives sublime.\\nAnd, departing, leave behind us\\nFootsteps on the sands of time\\nFootsteps, that perhaps another.\\nSailing o er life s solemn main,\\nA forlorn and shipwrecked brother.\\nSeeing, shall take heart again.\\nLet us, then, be up and doing.\\nWith a heart for any fate\\nStill achieving, still pursuing.\\nLearn to labor and to wait.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S FOEMS. 19\\nTHE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS.\\nThere is a Reaper, whose name is Death,\\nAnd, with his sickle keen,\\nHe reaps the bearded grain at a breath,\\nAnd the flowers that grow between.\\nShall I have nought that is fair? saith he;\\nHave nought but the bearded grain?\\nThough the breath of these flowers is sweet to\\nme,\\nI will give them all back again.\\nHe gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes,\\nHe kissed their drooping leaves\\nIt was for the Lord of Paradise\\nHe bound them in his sheaves.\\nMy Lord has need of these flowerets gay,\\nThe Reaper said, and smiled;\\nDear tokens of the earth are they.\\nWhere He was once a child.\\nThey shall all bloom in fields of light,\\nTransplanted by my care.\\nAnd saints, upon their garments white,\\nThese sacred blossoms wear.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "20 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nAnd the mother gave, in tears and pain,\\nThe flowers she most did love\\nShe knew she should find them all again\\nIn the fields of light above.\\nO, not in cruelty, not in wrath.\\nThe Reaper came that day;\\n*Twas an angel visited the green earth,\\nAnd took the flowers away.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE LIGHT OF STARS.\\nThe night is come, but not too soon\\nAnd sinking silently,\\nAll silently, the little moon\\nDrops down behind the sky.\\nThere is no light in earth or heaven\\nBut the cold light of stars\\nAnd the first watch of night is given\\nTo the red planet Mars.\\nIs it the tender star of love?\\nThe star of love and dreams?\\nO no! from that blue tent above\\nA hero s armor gleams.\\nAnd earnest thoughts within me rise,\\nWhen I behold afar,\\nSuspended in the evening skies,\\nThe shield of that red star.\\nO star of strength I see thee stand\\nAnd smile upon my pain\\nThou beckonest with thy mailed hand,\\nAnd I am strong again.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "22 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nWithin my breast there is no light,\\nBut the cold light of stars\\nI give the first watch of the night\\nTo the red planet Mars.\\nThe star of the tinconquered will,\\nHe rises in my breast,\\nSerene, and resolute, and still.\\nAnd calm, and self-possessed.\\nAnd thou, too, whosoe er thou art,\\nThat readest this brief psalm.\\nAs one by one thy hopes depart.\\nBe resolute and calm.\\nO fear not in a world like this.\\nAnd thou shalt know ere long.\\nKnow how sublime a thing it is\\nTo suffer and be strong.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 23\\nFOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS.\\nWhen the hours of Day are numbered,\\nAnd the voices of the Night\\nWake the better soul, that slumbered,\\nTo a holy, calm delight\\nEre the evening lamps are lighted,\\nAnd, like phantoms grim and tall.\\nShadows from the fitful firelight\\nDance upon the parlor wall\\nThen the forms of the departed\\nEnter at the open door;\\nThe beloved, the true-hearted.\\nCome to visit me once more\\nHe, the young and strong, who cherished\\nNoble longings for the strife.\\nBy the road-side fell and perished.\\nWeary with the march of life\\nThey, the holy ones and weakly,\\nWho the cross of suffering bore.\\nFolded their pale hands so meekly.\\nSpake with us on earth no more", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "24 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nAnd with them the Being Beauteous,\\nWho unto my youth was given,\\nMore than all things else to love me,\\nAnd is now a saint in heaven.\\nWith a slow and noiseless footstep\\nComes that messenger divine,\\nTakes the vacant chair beside me,\\nLays her gentle hand in mine.\\nAnd she sits and gazes at me\\nWith those deep and tender eyes,\\nLike the stars, so still and saint-like,\\nLooking downward from the skies.\\nUttered not, yet comprehended,\\nIs the spirit s voiceless prayer,\\nSoft rebukes, in blessings ended,\\nBreathing from her lips of air.\\nO, though oft depressed and lonely,\\nAll my fears are laid aside,\\nIf I but remember only,\\nSuch as these have lived and died", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 25\\nFLOWERS.\\nSpake full well, in language quaint and olden,\\nOne who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,\\nWhen he called the flowers, so blue and golden.\\nStars, that in earth s firmament do shine.\\nStars they are, wherein we read our history,\\nAs astrologers and seers of eld\\nYet not wrapped about with awful mystery.\\nLike the burning stars, which they beheld.\\nWondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous,\\nGod hath written in those stars above;\\nBut not less in the bright flowerets under us\\nStands the revelation of His love.\\nBright and glorious is that revelation.\\nWritten all over this great world of ours;\\nMaking evident our own creation.\\nIn these stars of earth, these golden\\nflowers.\\nAnd the Poet, faithful and far-seeing.\\nSees, alike in stars and flowers, a part", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "26 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nOf the self-same, universal being,\\nWhich is throbbing in his brain and heart.\\nGorgeous flowerets in the sunlight shining,\\nBlossoms flaunting in the eye of day,\\nTremulous leaves, with soft and silver lining,\\nBuds that open only to decay\\nBrilliant hopes, all woven in gorgeous tissues,\\nFlaunting gayly in the golden light\\nLarge desires, with most uncertain issues,\\nTender wishes, blossoming at night\\nThese in flowers and men are more than\\nseeming\\nWorkings are they of the self- same powers,\\nWhich the Poet, in no idle dreaming,\\nSeeth in himself and in the flowers.\\nEverywhere about us are they glowing,\\nSome like stars, to tell us Spring is born\\nOthers, their blue eyes with tears o erflowing,\\nStand like Ruth amid the golden com\\nNot alone in Spring s armorial bearing.\\nAnd in Summer s green-emblazoned field,\\nBut in arms of brave old Autumn s wearing,\\nIn the center of his blazen shield", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 27\\nNot alone in meadows and green alleys,\\nOn the mountain- top, and by the brink\\nOf sequestered pools in woodland valleys,\\nWhere the slaves of Nature stoop to drink;\\nNot alone in her vast dome of glory,\\nNot on graves of bird and beast alone,\\nBut in old cathedrals, high and hoary.\\nOn the tombs of heroes, carved in stone\\nIn the cottage of the rudest peasant,\\nIn ancestral homes, whose crumbling towers,\\nSpeaking of the Past unto the Present,\\nTell us of the ancient Games of Flowers\\nIn all places, then, and in all seasons.\\nFlowers expand their light and soul-like\\nwings,\\nTeaching us, by most persuasive reasons.\\nHow akin they are to human things.\\nAnd with childlike, credulous affection\\nWe behold their tender buds expand\\nEmblems of our own great resurrection.\\nEmblems of the bright and better land.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "28 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE BELEAGUERED CITY.\\nI have read, in some old marvelous tale,\\nSome legend strange and vague,\\nThat a midnight host of spectres pale\\nBeleaguered the walls of Prague.\\nBeside the Moldau s rushing stream,\\nWith the wan moon overhead,\\nThere stood, as in an awful dream,\\nThe army of the dead.\\nWhite as a sea-fog, landward bound.\\nThe spectral camp was seen.\\nAnd, with a sorrowful, deep sound\\nThe river flowed between.\\nNo other voice nor sound was there,\\nNo drum, nor sentry s pace;\\nThe mist-like banners clasped the air,\\nAs clouds with clouds embrace.\\nBut, when the old cathedral bell\\nProclaimed the morning prayer,\\nThe white pavilions rose and fell\\nOn the alarmed air.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 29\\nDown the broad valley fast and far\\nThe troubled army fled\\nUp rose the glorious morning star,\\nThe ghastly host was dead.\\nI have read, in the marvelous heart of man,\\nThat strange and mystic scroll,\\nThat an army of phantoms vast and wan\\nBeleaguer the human soul.\\nEncamped beside Life s rushing stream.\\nIn Fancy s misty light,\\nGigantic shapes and shadows gleam\\nPortentous through the night.\\nUpon its midnight battle-ground\\nThe spectral camp is seen,\\nAnd, with a sorrowful, deep sound,\\nFlows the River of Life between.\\nNo other voice nor sound is there,\\nIn the army of the grave;\\nNo other challenge breaks the air.\\nBut the rushing of Life s wave.\\nAnd, when the solemn and deep church-bell\\nEntreats the soul to pray,\\nThe midnight phantoms feel the spell,\\nThe shadows sweep away.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "30 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nDown the broad Vale of Tears afar\\nThe spectral camp is fled;\\nFaith shineth as a morning star,\\nOur ghastly fears are dead.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 31\\nMIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING\\nYEAR.\\nYes, the Year is growing old,\\nAnd his eye is pale and bleared\\nDeath, with frosty hand and cold,\\nPlucks the old man by the beard,\\nSorely, sorely!\\nThe leaves are falling, falling,\\nSolemnly and slow\\n**Caw! caw! the rooks are calling.\\nIt is a sound of woe,\\nA sound of woe\\nThrough woods and mountain passes\\nThe winds, like anthems, roll\\nThey are chanting solemn masses.\\nSinging, Pray for this poor soul.\\nPray pray\\nAnd the hooded clouds, like friars.\\nTell their beads in drops of rain.\\nAnd patter their doleful prayers\\nBut their prayers are all in vain.\\nAll in vain", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "32 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThere he stands in the foul weather,\\nThe foolish, fond Old Year,\\nCrowned with wild flowers and with heather,\\nLike weak, despised Lear,\\nA king, a king!\\nThen comes the summer-like day,\\nBids the old man rejoice!\\nHis joy his last O, the old man gray\\nLoveth that ever-soft voice.\\nGentle and low.\\nTo the crimson woods he saith,\\nTo the voice gentle and low\\nOf the soft air, like a daughter s breath,\\n**Pray do not mock me so!\\nDo not laugh at me!\\nAnd now the sweet day is dead\\nCold in his arms it lies\\nNo stain from its breath is spread\\nOver the glassy skies,\\nNo mist or stain\\nThen, too the Old Year dieth.\\nAnd the forests utter a moan,\\nLike the voice of one who crieth\\nIn the wilderness alone,\\nVexnot his ghost!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 33\\nThen comes, with an awful roar,\\nGathering and sounding on,\\nThe storm- wind from Labrador,\\nThe wind Euroclydon,\\nThe storm-wind!\\nHowl howl and from the forest\\nSweep the red leaves away\\nWould, the sins that thou abhorrest,\\nO Soul could thus decay,\\nAnd be swept away\\nFor there shall come a mightier blast,\\nThere shall be a darker day\\nAnd the stars, from heaven down-cast^\\nLike red leaves be swept away\\nKyrie,eleyson!\\nChriste, eleyson!\\n3 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "EARLIER POEMS.\\n35", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "[These poems were written for the most\\npart during my college life, and all of them\\nbefore the age of nineteen. Some have found\\ntheir way into schools, and seem to be success-\\nful. Others lead a vagabond and precarous\\nexistence in the corners of newspapers; or have\\nchanged their names and run away to seek\\ntheir fortunes beyond the sea. I say, with\\nthe Bishop of Avranches, on a similar occasion\\n**I cannot be displeased to see these children\\nof mine, which I have neglected, and almost\\nexposed, brought from their wanderings in\\nlanes and alleys, and safely lodged, in order to\\ngo forth into the world together in a more de-\\ncorous garb.\\n36", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "AN APRIL DAY.\\nWhen the warm sun, that brings\\nSeed-time and harvest, has returned again,\\nTis sweet to visit the still wood, where springs\\nThe first flower of the plain.\\nI love the season well,\\nWhen forest glades are teeming with bright\\nforms,\\nNor dark and many-folded clouds foretell\\nThe coming-on of storms.\\nFrom the earth s loosened mould\\nThe sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives\\nThough stricken to the heart with winter s\\ncold,\\nThe drooping tree revives.\\nThe softly-warbled song\\nComes from the pleasant woods, and colored\\nwings\\nGlance quick in the bright sun, that moves\\nalong\\nThe forest openings.\\n37", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "38 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nWhen the bright sunset fills\\nThe silver woods with light, the green slope\\nthrows\\nIts shadows in the hollows of the hills,\\nAnd wide the upland glows.\\nAnd, when the eve is born,\\nIn the blue lake the sky, o er-reaching far,\\nIs hollowed out, and the moon dips her horn,\\nAnd twinkles many a star.\\nInverted in the tide,\\nStand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows\\nthrow.\\nAnd the fair trees look over, side by side,\\nAnd see themselves below.\\nSweet April many a thought\\nIs wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed\\nNor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,\\nLife s golden fruit is shed.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 39\\nAUTUMN.\\nWith what a glory comes and goes the year!\\nThe buds of spring, those beautiful harbingers\\nOf sunny skies and cloudless times, enjoy\\nLife s newness, and earth s garniture spread\\nout;\\nAnd when the silver habit of the clouds\\nComes down upon the autumn sun, and with\\nA sober gladness the old year takes up\\nHis bright inheritance of golden fruits,\\nA pomp and pageant fill the splendid scene.\\nThere is a beautiful spirit breathing now\\nIts mellow richness on the clustered trees,\\nAnd, from a beaker full of richest dyes.\\nPouring new glory on the autumn woods.\\nAnd dipping in warm light the pillared clouds.\\nMorn on the mountain, like a summer bird,\\nLifts up her purple wing, and in the vales\\nThe gentle wind, a sweet and passionate\\nwooer,\\nKisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life\\nWitin the solemn woods of ash deep-crimsoned,\\nAnd silver beech, and maple yellow-leaved.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "4a LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nWhere autumn, like a faint old man, sits down\\nBy the wayside a- weary. Through the trees\\nThe golden robin moves. The purple finch,\\nThat on wild cherry and red cedar feeds,\\nA winter bird, comes with its plaintive whistle,\\nAnd pecks by the witch-hazel, whilst aloud\\nFrom cottage roofs the warbling blue-bird\\nsings.\\nAnd merrily, with oft-repeated stroke,\\nSounds from the threshing-floor the busy flail.\\nO what a glory doth this world put on\\nFor him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth\\nUnder the bright and glorious sky, and looks\\nOn duties well performed, and days well spent!\\nFor him the wind, ay, and the yellow leaves\\nShall have a voice, and give him eloquent\\nteachings.\\nHe shall so hear the solemn hymn, that Death\\nHe lifted up for all, that he shall go\\nTo his long resting-place without a tear.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 41\\nWOODS IN WINTER/\\nWhen winter winds are piercing chill,\\nAnd through the hawthorn blows the gale,\\nWith solemn feet I tread the hill,\\nThat overbrows the lonely vale.\\nO er the bare upland, and away\\nThrough the long reach of desert woods.\\nThe embracing sunbeams chastely play,\\nAnd gladden these deep solitudes.\\nWhere, twisted round the barren oak.\\nThe summer vine in beauty clung.\\nAnd summer winds the stillness broke.\\nThe crystal icicle is hung.\\nWhere, from their frozen urns, mute springs\\nPour out the river s gradual tide.\\nShrilly the skater s iron rings,\\nAnd voices fill the woodland side.\\nAlas how changed from the fair scene.\\nWhen birds sang out their mellow lay.\\nAnd winds were soft, and woods were green\\nAnd the song ceased not with the day.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "42 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nBut still wild music is abroad,\\nPale, desert woods within your crowd\\nAnd gathering winds, in hoarse accord.\\nAmid the vocal reeds pipe loud.\\nChill airs and wintry winds my ear\\nHas grown familiar with your song;\\nI hear it in the opening year,\\nI listen, and it cheers. me long.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 43\\nHYMN OF THE MORAVIAN NUNS OF\\nBETHLEHEM\\nAT THE CONSECRATION OF PULASKl s BANNER.\\nWhen the dying flame of day-\\nThrough the chancel shot its ray,\\nFar the glimmering tapers shed\\nFaint light on the cowled head\\nAnd the censer burning swung,\\nWhere, before the altar, hung\\nThe blood-red banner, that with prayer\\nHad been consecrated there.\\nAnd the nuns sweet hymn was heard the w^hile,\\nSung low in the dim, mysterious aisle.\\nTake thy banner! May it wave\\nProudly o er the good and brave;\\nWhen the battle s distant wail\\nBreaks the Sabbath of our vale.\\nWhen the clarion s music thrills\\nTo the hearts of these lone hills,\\nWhen the spear in conflict shakes.\\nAnd the strong lance shivering breaks.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "44 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\n**Take thy banner! and, beneath\\nThe battle-cloud s encircling wreath,\\nGuard it till our homes are f ree\\nGuard it! God will prosper thee!\\nIn the dark and trying hour,\\nIn the breaking forth of power,\\nIn the rush of steeds and men,\\nHis right hand will shield thee then.\\nTake thy banner! But, when night\\nCloses round the ghastly fight,\\nIf the vanquished warrior bow,\\nSpare him By our holy vow.\\nBy our prayers and many tears.\\nBy the mercy that endears.\\nSpare him! he our love hath shared!\\nSpare him as thou wouldst be spared\\n**Take thy banner! and if e er\\nThou shouldst press the soldier s bier.\\nAnd the muffled drum should beat\\nTo the tread of mournful feet,\\nThen this crimson flag shall be\\nMartial cloak and shroud for thee.\\nThe warrior took that banner proud.\\nAnd it was his martial cloak and shroud", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 45\\nSUNRISE ON THE HILLS.\\nI stood upon the hills, when heaven s widearch\\nWas glorious with the sun s returning march,\\nAnd woods were brightened, and soft gales\\nWent forth to kiss the sun-clad vales.\\nThe clouds were far beneath me; bathed in\\nlight,\\nThey gathered mid-way round the wooded\\nheight.\\nAnd, in their fading glory, shone\\nLike hosts in battle overthrown.\\nAs many a pinnacle, with shifting glance,\\nThrough the gray mist thrust up its shattered\\nlance.\\nAnd rocking on the cliff was left\\nThe dark pine blasted, bare, and cleft.\\nThe veil of cloud was lifted, and below\\nGlowed the rich valley, and the river s flow\\nWas darkened by the forest s shade,\\nOr glistened in the white cascade\\nWhere upward, in the mellow blush of day,\\nThe noisy bittern wheeled his spiral way.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "46 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nI heard the distant waters dash,\\nI saw the current whirl and flash,\\nAnd richly, by the blue lake s silver beach,\\nThe woods were bending with a silent reach.\\nThen o er the vale, with gentle swell,\\nThe music of the village bell\\nCame sweetly to the echo-giving hills;\\nAnd the wild horn, whose voice the woodland\\nfills.\\nWas ringing to the merry shout,\\nThat faint and far the glen sent out,\\nWhere, answering to the sudden shot,, thin\\nsmoke,\\nThrough thick-leaved branches, from the dingle\\nbroke.\\nIf thou art worn and hard beset\\nWith sorrows, that thou wouldst forget,\\nIf thou wouldst read a lesson, that will keep\\nThy heart from fainting and thy soul from\\nsleep,\\nGo to the woods and hills!\u00e2\u0080\u0094 No tears\\nDim the sweet look that Nature wears.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 47\\nTHE SPIRIT OF POETRY.\\nThere is a quiet spirit in these woods,\\nThat dwell s where er the gentle south wind\\nblows\\nWhere, underneath the white-thorn, in the\\nglade,\\nThe wild flowers bloom, or, kissing the soft air.\\nThe leaves above their sunny palms outspread.\\nWith what a tender and impassioned voice\\nIt fills the nice and delicate ear of thought,\\nWhen the fast-ushering star of morning comes\\nO er- riding the gray hills with golden scarf;\\nOr when the cowled and dusky-sandaled Eve,\\nIn mourning weeds, from out the western gate,\\nDeparts with silent pace That spirit moves\\nIn the green valley, where the silver brook,\\nFrom its full laver, pours the wide cascade\\nAnd, babbling low amid the tangled woods,\\nSlip down through moss-grown stones with\\nendless laughter.\\nAnd frequent, on the everlasting hills.\\nIts feet go forth, when it doth wrap itself\\nIn all the dark embroidery of the storm,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "48 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nAnd shouts the stern, strong wind. And here,\\namid\\nThe silent majesty of these deep woods,\\nIts presence shall uplift thy thoughts from\\nearth,\\nAs to the sunshine and the pure, bright air\\nTheir tops the green trees lift. Hence gifted\\nbards\\nHave ever loved the calm and quiet shades.\\nFor them there was an eloquent voice in all\\nThe sylvan pomp of woods, the golden sun.\\nThe flowers, the leaves, the river on its way,\\nBlue skies, and silver clouds, and gentle\\nwinds,\\nThe swelling upland, where the sidelong sun\\nAslant the wooded slop, at evening, goes,\\nGroves, through whose broken roof the sky\\nlooks in,\\nMountain, and shattered cliff, and sunny vale.\\nThe distant lake, fountains, and mighty trees,\\nIn many a lazy syllable, repeating\\nTheir old poetic legends to the wind.\\nAnd this is the sweet spirit, that doth fill\\nThe world; and, in these wayward days of\\nyouth.\\nMy busy fancy oft embodies it,\\nAs a bright image of the light and beauty", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 49\\nThat dwell in nature, of the heavenly forms\\nWe worship in our dreams, and the soft hues\\nThat stain the wild bird s wing, and flush the\\nclouds\\nWhen the sun sets. Within her eye\\nThe heaven of April, with its changing light\\nAnd when it wears the blue of May, is hung.\\nAnd on her lip the rich, red rose. Her hair\\nIs like the summer tresses of the trees.\\nWhen twilight makes them brown, and on her\\ncheek\\nBlushes the richness of an autumn sky,\\nWith ever-shifting beauty. Then her breath,\\nIt is so like the gentle air of Spring,\\nAs, from the morning s dewy flowers, it comes\\nFull of their fragrance, that it is a joy\\nTo have it round us, and her silver voice\\nIs the rich music of a summer bird.\\nHeard in the still night with its passionate\\ncadence.\\n4 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "50 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nBURIAL OF THE MINNISINK.\\nOn sunny slope and beeches swell,\\nThe shadowed light of evening fell\\nAnd, where the maple s leaf was brown,\\nWith soft and silent lapse came down\\nThe glory, that the wood receives,\\nAt sunset, in its brazen leaves.\\nFar upward in the mellow light\\nRose the blue hills. One cloud of white\\nAround a fair uplifted cone.\\nIn the warm blush of evening shone\\nAn image of the silver lakes,\\nBy which the Indian s soul awakes.\\nBut soon a funeral hymn was heard\\nWhere the soft breath of evening stirred\\nThe tall, gray forest and a band\\nOf stern in heart, and strong in hand,\\nCame winding down beside the wave.\\nTo lay the red chief in his grave.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 51\\nThey sang, that by his native bowers\\nHe stood, in the last moon of flowers,\\nAnd thirty snows had not yet shed\\nTheir glory on the warrior s head;\\nBut, as the summer fruit decays,\\nSo died he in those naked days.\\nA dark cloak of the roebuck s skin\\nCovered the warrior, and within\\nIts heavy folds the weapons, made\\nFor the hard toils of war, were laid\\nThe cuirass, woven of plaited reeds.\\nAnd the broad belt of shells and beads.\\nBefore, a dark-haired virgin train\\nChanted the death dirge of the slain;\\nBehind, the long procession came\\nOf hoary men and chiefs of fame,\\nWith heavy hearts, and eyes of grief,\\nLeading the war-horse of their chief.\\nStripped of his proud and martial dress\\nUncurbed, unreined, and riderless,\\nWith darting eye, and nostril spread,\\nAnd heavy and impatient tread.\\nHe came and oft that eye so proud\\nAsked for his rider in the crowd.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "62 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThey buried the dark chief; they freed\\nBeside the grave his battle steed\\nAnd swift an arrow cleaved its way\\nTo his stern heart One piercing neigh\\nArose, and\u00c2\u00bb on the dead man s plain,\\nThe rider grasps his steed again.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "TRANSLATIONS.\\n53", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "[Don Jorge Manrique, the author of the fol-\\nlowing poem, flourished in the last half of the\\nfifteenth century. He followed the profession\\nof arms, and died on the field of battle. Mari-\\nana, in his History of Spain, makes honorable\\nmention of him, as being present at the siege\\nof Ucles; and speaks of him as a youth of esti-\\nmable qualities, who in this war gave brilliant\\nproofs of his valor. He died young; and was\\nthus cut off from long exercising his great vir-\\ntues, and exhibiting to the world the light of\\nhis genius, which was already known to\\nfame. He was mortally wounded in a skirm-\\nish near Canavete, in the year 1479.\\nThe name of Rodrigo Manrique, the father\\nof the poet, Conde de Paredes and Maestre de\\nSantiago, is well known in Spanish history and\\nsong. He died in 1476; according to Mariana,\\nin the town of Ucles; but, according to the\\npoem of his son, in Ocana. It was his\\ndeath that called forth the poem upon\\nwhich rests the literary reputation of the\\nyounger Manrique. In the language of his his-\\ntorian, Don Jorge Manrique, in an elegant\\nOde, full of poetic beauties, rich embellish-\\nments of genius, and high moral reflections,\\nmourned the death of his father as with a fun-\\neral hymn. This praise is not exaggerated.\\nThe poem is a model in its kind. Its concep-\\ntion is solemn and beautiful; and, in accord-\\nance with it, the style moves on calm, digni-\\nfied and majestic.\\n54", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "COPLAS DE MANRIQUE.\\nFROM THE SPANISH.\\nO let the soul her slumbers break,\\nLet thought be quickened, and awake;\\nAwake to see\\nHow soon this life is past and gone,\\nAnd death comes softly stealing on.\\nHow silently I\\nSwiftly our pleasures glide away,\\nOur hearts recall the distant day\\nWith many sighs;\\nThe moments that are speeding fast\\nWe heed not, but the past, the past,-\\nMore highly prize.\\nOnward its course the present keeps.\\nOnward the constant current sweeps.\\nTill life is done\\nAnd, did we judge of time aright,\\nThe past and future in their flight\\nWould be as one.\\nLet no one fondly dream again,\\nThat Hope and all her shadowy train\\nWill not decay;\\n65", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "56 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nFleeting as were the dreams of old,\\nRemembered like a tale that s told\\nThey pass away.\\nOur lives are rivers, gliding free\\nTo that unfathomed, boundless sea,\\nThe silent grave!\\nThither all earthly pomp and boast\\nRoll, to be swallowed up and lost\\nIn one dark wave.\\nThither the mighty torrents stray.\\nThither the brook pursues its way.\\nAnd tinkling rill.\\nThere all are equal. Side by side\\nThe poor man and the son of pride\\nLie calm and still.\\nI will not here invoke the throng\\nOf orators and sons of songs.\\nThe deathless few\\nFiction entices and deceives,\\nAnd, sprinkled o er her fragrant leaves,\\nLies poisonous dew.\\nTo One alone my thoughts arivSe,\\nThe Eternal Truth,\u00e2\u0080\u0094 the Good and Wise-\\nTo Him I cry,\\nWho shared on earth our common lot,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "Whose name is written on the scroll of fame. Page 68.\\nLongfellow s Poems,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 57\\nBut the world comprehended not\\nHis deity.\\nThis world is but the rugged road\\nWhich leads us to the bright abode\\nOf peace above\\nSo let us choose that narrow way\\nWhich leads no traveler s foot astray\\nFrom realms of love.\\nOur cradle is the starting-place,\\nIn life we run the onward race,\\nAnd reach the goal\\nWhen, in the mansions of the blest,\\nDeath leaves to its eternal rest\\nThe weary soul.\\nDid we but use it as we ought,\\nThis world would school each wandering:\\nthought\\nTo its high state.\\nFaith wings the soul beyond the sky,\\nUp to that better world on high.\\nFor which we wait.\\nYes, the glad messenger of love.\\nTo guide us to our home above.\\nThe Saviour came\\nBorn amid mortal cares and fears.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "58 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nHe suffered in this vale of tears\\nA death of shame.\\nBehold of what delusive worth\\nThe bubbles we pursue on earth,\\nThe shapes we chase,\\nAmid a world of treachery!\\nThey vanish ere death shuts the eye,\\nAnd leave no trace.\\nTime steals them from us, chances strange,\\nDisastrous accidents, and change.\\nThat come to all\\nEven in the most exalted state.\\nRelentless sweeps the stroke of fate\\nThe strongest fall.\\nTell me, the charms that lovers seek\\nIn the clear eye and blushing cheek,\\nThe hues that play\\nO er rosy lip and brow of snow.\\nWhen hoary age approaches slow.\\nAh, where are they?\\nThe cunning skill, the curious arts,\\nThe glorious strength that youth imparts\\nIn life s first stage;\\nThese shall become a heavy weight.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 59\\nWhen Time swings wide his outward gate\\nTo weary age.\\nThe noble blood of Gothic name,\\nHeroes emblazoned high to fame,\\nIn long array\\nHow, in the onward course of time,\\nThe landmarks of that race sublime\\nWere swept away!\\nSome, the degraded slaves of lust,\\nProstrate and trampled in the dust,\\nShall rise no more\\nOthers, by guilt and crime, maintain\\nThe scutcheon, that, without a stain.\\nTheir fathers bore.\\nWealth and high estate of pride.\\nWith what untimely speed they glide.\\nHow soon depart\\nBid not the shadowy phantoms stay,\\nThe vassals of a mistress they.\\nOf fickle heart\\nThese gifts in Fortune s hands are found;\\nHer swift revolving wheel turns round\\nAnd they are gone\\nNo rest the inconstant goddess knows,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "60 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nBut changing, and without repose,\\nStill hurries on.\\nEven could the hand of avarice save\\nIts gilded baubles, till the grave\\nReclaimed its prey,\\nLet none on such poor hopes rely\\nLife, like an empty dream, flits by,\\nAnd where are they?\\nEarthly desires and sensual lust\\nAre passions springing from the dust,\\nThey fade and die\\nBut, in the life beyond the tomb.\\nThey seal the immortal spirit s doom\\nEternally\\nThe pleasures and delights, which mask\\nIn treacherous smiles life s serious task.\\nWhat are they, all.\\nBut the fleet coursers of the chase\\nAnd death an ambush in the race,\\nWherein we fall?\\nNo foe, no dangerous pass, we heed.\\nBrook no delay,\u00e2\u0080\u0094 but onward speed\\nWith loosened rein\\nAnd, when the fatal snare is near.\\nWe strive to check our mad career,\\n3ut strive in vain.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 61\\nCould we new charms to age impart,\\nAnd fashion with a cunning art\\nThe human face,\\nAs we can clothe the soul with light,\\nAnd make the glorious spirit bright\\nWith heavenly grace,\\nHow busily each passing hour\\nShould we exert that magic power!\\nWhat ardor show.\\nTo deck the sensual slave of sin.\\nYes leave the freeborn soul within,\\nIn weeds of woe!\\nMonarchs, the powerful and the strong,\\nFamous in history and in song\\nOf olden time.\\nSaw, by the stern decrees of fate.\\nTheir kingdoms lost, and desolate\\nTheir race sublime.\\nWho is the champion? who the strong?\\nPontiff and priest, and sceptred throng?\\nOn these shall fall\\nAs heavily the hand of Death,\\nAs when it stays the shepherd s breath\\nBeside his stall.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "62 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nI speak not of the Trojan name,\\nNeither its glory nor its shame\\nHas met our eyes\\nNor of Rome s great and glorious dead,\\nThough we have heard so oft, and read,\\nTheir histories.\\nLittle avails it now to know\\nOf ages passed so long ago,\\nNor how they rolled\\nOur theme shall be of yesterday.\\nWhich to oblivion sweeps away,\\nLike days of old.\\nWhere is the King, Don Juan? Where\\nEach royal prince and noble heir\\nOf Aragon?\\nWhere are the courtly gallantries?\\nThe deeds of love and high emprise,\\n-In battle done?\\nTourney and joust, that charmed the eye,\\nAnd scarf, and gorgeous panoply,\\nAnd nodding plume,\\nWhat were they but a pageant scene\\nWhat but the garlands, gay and green.\\nThat deck the tomb?", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 63\\nWhere are the high-born dames, and where\\nTheir gay attire, and jeweled hair.\\nAnd odors sweet?\\nWhere are the gentle knights, that came\\nTo kneel, and breath love s ardent flame,\\nLow at their feet?\\nWhere is the song of Troubadour?\\nWhere are the lute and gay tambour\\nThey loved of yore?\\nWhere is the mazy dance of old,\\nThe flowing robes, inwrought with gold,\\nThe dancers wore?\\nAnd he who next the sceptre swayed,\\nHenry, whose royal court displayed\\nSuch power and pride\\nO, in what winning smiles arrayed.\\nThe world its various pleasures laid\\nHis throne beside\\nBut O how false and full of guile\\nThat world, which wore so soft a smile\\nBut to bet way!\\nShe, that had been his friend before,\\nNow from the fated monarch tore\\nHer charms away.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "64 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThe countless gifts, the stately walls,\\nThe royal palaces, and halls\\nAll filled with gold;\\nPlate with armorial bearings wrought,\\nChambers with ample treasures fraught\\nOf wealth untold\\nThe noble steeds, and harness bright,\\nAnd gallant lord, and stalwart knight,\\nIn rich array,\\nWhere shall we seek them now? Alas!\\nLike the bright dewdrops on the grass,\\nThey passed away.\\nHis brother, too, whose factious zeal\\nUsurped the sceptre of Castile,\\nUnskilled to reign\\nWhat a gry, brilliant court had he.\\nWhen all the flower of chivalry\\nWas in his train\\nBut he was mortal and the breath.\\nThat flamed from the hot forge of Death,\\nBlasted his years\\nJudgment of God that flame by thee.\\nWhen raging fierce and fearfully,\\nWas quenched in tears!\\nSpain s haughty Constable, the great\\nAnd gallant Master, cruel fate", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 65\\nStripped him of all.\\nBreathe not a whisper of his pride,\\nHe on the gloomy scaffold died,\\nIgnoble fall!\\nThe countless treasures of his care,\\nHamlets and villas green and fair,\\nHis mighty power,\\nWhat were they all, but grief and shame,\\nTears and broken heart, when came\\nThe parting hour?\\nHis other brothers, proud and high,\\nMasters, who, in prosperity.\\nMight rival kings;\\nWho made the bravest and the best\\nThe bondsmen of their high behest.\\nTheir underlings;\\nWhat was their prosperous estate,\\nWhen high exalted and elate\\nWith power and pride?\\nWhat, but a transient gleam of light,\\nA flame, which, glaring at its height,\\nGrew dim and died?\\nSo many a duke of royal name.\\nMarquis and count of spotless fame,\\nAnd baron brave,\\n5 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "66 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThat might the sword of empire wield,\\nAll these, O Death, hast thou concealed\\nIn the dark grave\\nTheir deeds of mercy and of arms,\\nIn peaceful days, or war s alarms,\\nWhen thou dost show,\\nO Death, thy stern and angry face.\\nOne stroke of thy all-powerful mace\\nCan overthrow.\\nUnnumbered hosts, that threaten nigh,\\nPennon and standard flaunting high,\\nAnd flag displayed;\\nHigh battlements intrenched around.\\nBastion, and moated wall, and mound,\\nAnd palisade,\\nAnd covered trench, secure and deep,\\nAll these cannot one victim keep,\\nO Death, from thee.\\nWhen thou dost battle in thy wrath.\\nAnd thy strong shafts pursue their path\\nUnerringly.\\nO World so few the years we live,\\nWould that the life which thou dost give\\nWere life indeed\\nAlas thy sorrows fall so fast,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 67\\nOur happiest hour is when at last\\nThe soul is freed.\\nOur days are covered o er with grief,\\nAnd sorrows neither few nor brief\\nVeil all in gloom\\nLeft desolate of real good,\\nWithin this cheerless solitude\\nNo pleasures bloom.\\nThy pilgrimage begins in tears,\\nAnd ends in bitter doubts and fears,\\nOr dark despair;\\nMidway so many toils appear,\\nThat he who lingers longest here\\nKnows most of care.\\nThy goods are bought with many a groan,\\nBy the hot sweat of toil alone,\\nAnd weary hearts\\nFleet-footed is the approach of woe,\\nBut with a lingering step and slow\\nIts form departs.\\nAnd he, the good man s shield and shade,\\nTo whom all hearts their homage paid,\\nAs Virtue s son,\\nRoderic Manrique, he whose name", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "68 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nIs written on the scroll of Fame,\\nSpam s champion;\\nHis signal deeds and powers high\\nDemand no pompous eulogy,\\nYe saw his deeds\\nWhy should their praise in verse be sung?\\nThe name, that dwells on every tongue,\\nNo minstrel needs.\\nTo friends a friend; how kind lo all\\nThe vassals of this ancient hall\\nAnd feudal fief!\\nTo foes how stern a foe was he!\\nAnd to the valiant and the free\\nHow brave a chief!\\nWhat prudence with the old and wise;\\nWhat grace in youthful gayeties\\nIn all how sage\\nBenignant to the serf and slave.\\nHe showed the base and falsely brave\\nA lion s rage.\\nHis was Octavian s prosperous star,\\nThe rush of Caesar s conquering car\\nAt battle s call;\\nHis, Scipio s virtue; his, the skill", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 69\\nAnd the indomitable will\\nOf Hannibal.\\nHis was a Trajan s goodness, his\\nA Titus* noble charities\\nAnd righteous laws\\nThe arm of Hector, and the might\\nOf Tully, to maintain the right\\nIn truth s just cause;\\nThe clemency of Antonine,\\nAurelius countenance divine,\\nFirm, gentle, still;\\nThe eloquence of Adrian,\\nAnd Theodosius love to man.\\nAnd generous will\\nIn tented field and bloody fray,\\nAn Alexander s vigorous sway\\nAnd stern command\\nThe faith of Constantine; ay, more,\\nThe fervent love Camillus bore\\nHis native land.\\nHe left no well-filled treasury,\\nHe heaped no pile of riches high.\\nNor massive plate\\nHe fought the Moors, and, in their fall.\\nVilla and tower and castled wall\\nWere his estate.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "70 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nUpon the hard-fought battle-ground,\\nBrave steeds and gallant riders found\\nA common grave\\nAnd there the warrior s hand did gain\\nThe rents, and the long vassal train,\\nThe conquered gave.\\nAnd if, of old, his halls displayed\\nThe honored and exalted grade\\nHis worth had gained,\\nSo, in the dark, disastrous hour,\\nBrothers and bondsmen of his power\\nHis hand sustained.\\nAfter high deeds, not left untold.\\nIn the stern warfare, which of old\\nT was his to share.\\nSuch noble leagues he made, that more\\nAnd fairer regions, than before.\\nHis guerdon were.\\nThese are the records, half-effaced.\\nWhich, with the hand of youth, he traced\\nOn history s page;\\nBut with fresh victories he drew\\nEach fading character anew\\nIn his old age.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 71\\nBy his unrivaled skill, by great\\nAnd veteran service to the state,\\nBy worth adored,\\nHe stood, in his high dignity,\\nThe proudest knight of chivalry,\\nKnight of the Sword.\\nHe found his villas and domains\\nBeneath a tyrant s galling chains\\nAnd cruel power;\\nBut, by fierce battle and blockade,\\nSoon his own banner was displayed\\nFrom every tower.\\nBy the tried valor of his hand.\\nHis monarch and his native land\\nWere nobly served\\nLet Portugal repeat the story,\\nAnd proud Castile, who shared the glory\\nHis arms deserved.\\nAnd when so oft, for weal or woe,\\nHis life upon the fatal throw\\nHad been cast down;\\nWhen he had served, with patriot zeal,\\nBeneath the banner of Castile,\\nHis sovereign s crown;\\nAnd done such deeds of valor strong,\\nThat neither history nor song", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "72 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nCan count them all\\nThen, on Ocana s castled rock,\\nDeath at his portal came to knock,\\nWith sudden call,\\nSaying, Good Cavalier, prepare\\nTo leave this world of toil and care\\nWith joyful mien;\\nLet thy strong heart of steel this day\\nPut on its armor for the fray,\\nThe closing scene.\\nSince thou hast been, in battle-strife,\\nSo prodigal of health and life.\\nFor earthly fame.\\nLet virtue nerve thy heart again\\nLoud on the last stern battle-plain\\nThey call thy name.\\nThink not the struggle that draws near\\nToo terrible for man, nor fear\\nTo m eet the foe\\nNor let thy noble spirit grieve.\\nIts life of glorious fame to leave\\nOn earth below.\\nA life of honor and of worth\\nHas no eternity on earth,\\n*Tis but a name;", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 73\\nAnd yet its glory far exceeds\\nThat base and sensual life, which leads\\nTo want and shame.\\n**The eternal life, beyond the sky,\\nWealth cannot purchase, nor the high\\nAnd proud estate\\nThe soul in dalliance laid, the spirit\\nCorrupt with sin, shall not inherit\\nA joy so great.\\n**But the good monk, in cloistered cell,\\nShall gain it by his book and bell,\\nHis prayers and tears\\nAnd the brave knight, whose arm endures\\nFierce battle, and against the Moors\\nHis standard rears.\\nAnd thou, brave knight, whose hand hast\\npoured\\nThe life-blood of the Pagan horde\\nO er all the land.\\nIn heaven shalt thou receive, at length.\\nThe guerdon of thine earthly strength\\nAnd dauntless hand.\\nCheered onward by his promise sure,\\nStrong in the faith entire and pure\\nThou dost profess,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "74 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nDepart, thy hope is certainty,\\nThe third the better life on high\\nShalt thou possess.\\n**0 Death, no more, no more delay,\\nMy spirit longs to flee away,\\nAnd be at rest;\\nThe will of Heaven my will shall be,-\\nI bow to the divine decree.\\nTo God s behest.\\n**My soul is ready to depart,\\nNo thought rebels, the obedient heart\\nBreathes forth no sigh\\nThe wish on earth to linger still\\nWere vain, when tis God s sovereign will\\nThat we shall die.\\n0 thou, that for our sins didst take\\nA human form, and humbly make\\nThy home on earth\\nThou, that to thy divinity\\nA human nature didst ally\\nBy mortal birth.\\nAnd in that form didst suffer here\\nTorment, and agony, and fear.\\nSo patiently;\\nBy thy redeeming grace alone.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 75\\nAnd not for merits of my own,\\nO, pardon me\\nAs thus the dying warrior prayed,\\nWithout one gathering mist or shade\\nUpon his mind;\\nEncircled by his family.\\nWatched by affection s gentle eye\\nSo soft and kind\\nHis soul to Him who gave it rose\\nGod lead it to its long repose,\\nIts glorious rest!\\nAnd, though the warrior s sun has set,\\nIts light shall linger round us yet,\\nBright, radiant, blest.*\\nThis poem of Manrique is a gjeat favorite in Spain.\\nNo less than four poetic Glosses, or running commen-\\ntaries, upon it have been published, no one of which,\\nhowever, possesses great poetic merit. That of the\\nCarthusian monk, Rodrigo de Valdepenas, is the best.\\nIt is known as the Glosa del Cartujo. There is also a\\nprose Commentary by Luis de Aranda.\\nWorld! so few the years we live,\\nWould that the life which thou dost give\\nWere life indeed\\nAlas thy sorrows fall so fast.\\nOur happiest hour is when at last\\nThe soul is freed.\\nOur days are covered o er with gn*icf\u00c2\u00bb\\nAnd sorrows neither few nor brief\\nVeil all in gloom", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "76 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nLeft desolate of real good,\\nWithin this cheerless solitude\\nNo pleasures bloom.\\nThe following stanzas of the poem were found in the\\nauthor s pocket, after his death on the field of battle:\\nThy pilgrimage begins in tears\\nAnd ends in bitter doubts and fears,\\nOr dark despair\\nMidway so many toils appear,\\nThat he who lingers longest here\\nKnows most of care.\\nThy goods are bought with many a groan,\\nBy the hot sweat of toil alone,\\nAnd weary hearts\\nFleet-footed is the approach of woe.\\nBut with a lingering step and slow\\nIts form departs.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 77\\nTHE GOOD SHEPHERD.\\nFROM THE SPANISH OF LOPE DE VEGA.\\nShepherd! that with thine amorous, sylvan\\nsong\\nHast broken the slumber which encompassed\\nme,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThat mad st thy crook from the accursed tree,\\nOn which thy powerful arms were stretched so\\nlong!\\nLead me to mercy s ever-flowing fountains;\\nFor thou my shepherd, guard, and guide shalt\\nbe;\\nI will obey thy voice, and wait to see\\nThy feet all beautiful upon the mountains.\\nHear, Shepherd! thou who for thy flock art\\ndying.\\nO, wash away these scarlet sins, for thou\\nRejoicest at the contrite sinner s vow.\\nO, wait! to thee my weary soul is crying,\\nWait for me Yet why ask it, when I see,\\nWith feet nailed to the cross, thou rt waiting\\nstill for me I", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTO-MORROW.\\nFROM THE SPANISH OF LOPE DE VEGA.\\nLord, what am I, that, with unceasing care,\\nThou didst seek after me, that thou didst\\nwait,\\nYVet with unhealthy dews, before my gate,\\nAnd pass the gloomy nights of winter there?\\nO strange delusion! that I did not greet\\nThy blest approach, and O, to Heaven how\\nlost.\\nIf my ingratitude s unkindly frost\\nHas chilled the bleeding wounds upon thy feet.\\nHow oft my guardian angel gently cried,\\nSoul, from thy casement look, and thou shall\\nsee\\nHow he persists to knock and wait for thee!\\nAnd, O! how often to that voice of sorrow,\\nTo-morrow we will open, I replied,\\nAnd when the morrow came I answered still,\\nTo-morrow.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 79\\nTHE NATIVE LAND.\\nFROM THE SPANISH OF FRANCISCO DE ALDANA.\\nClear, fount of light my native land on high,\\nBright with a glory that shall never fade\\nMansion of truth! without a veil or shade,\\nThy holy quiet meets the spirit s eye.\\nThere dwells the soul in its ethereal essence,\\nGasping no longer for life s feeble breath\\nBut, sentineled in heaven, its glorious presence\\nWith pitying eye beholds, yet fears not, death.\\nBeloved country! banished from thy shore,\\nA stranger in this prison-house of clay,\\nThe exiled spirit weeps and sighs for thee\\nHeavenward the bright perfections I adore\\nDirect, and the sure promise cheers the way,\\nThat, whither love aspires, there shall my\\ndwelling be.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "80 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE IMAGE OF GOD.\\nFROM THE SPANISH OF FRANCISCO DE ALDANA.\\nO Lord that seest, from yon starry height,\\nCentred in one the future and the past,\\nFashioned in thine own image, see how fast\\nThe world obscures in me what once was\\nbright!\\nEternal Sun! the warmth which thou hast\\ngiven,\\nTo cheer life s flowery April, fast decays;\\nYet, in the hoary winter of my days.\\nForever green shall be my trust in Heaven.\\nCelestial King! O let thy presence pass\\nBefore my spirit, and an image fair\\nShall meet that look of mercy from on high.\\nAs the reflected image in a glass\\nDoth meet the look of him who seeks it there,\\nAnd owes its being to the gazer s eye.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 81\\nTHE BROOK.\\nFROM THE SPANISH,\\nLaugh of the mountain lyre of bird and tree\\nPomp of the meadow mirror of the morn\\nThe soul of April, unto whom are born\\nThe rose and jessamine leaps wild in thee\\nAlthough, where er thy devious current strays.\\nThe lap of earth with gold and silver teems,\\nTo me thy clear proceeding brighter seems\\nThan golden sands, that charm each shepherd s\\ngaze.\\nHow without guile thy bosom, all transparent\\nAs the pure crystal, lets the curious eye\\nThy secrets scan, thy smooth, round pebbles\\ncount\\nHow, without malice, murmuring glides thy\\ncurrent\\nO sweet simplicity of days gone by\\nThou shun St the haunts of man, to dwell in\\nlimpid fount!\\n6 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "82 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE CELESTIAL PILOT.\\nFROM DANTE. PURGATORIO, II.\\nAnd now, behold as at the approach of morning,\\nThrough the gross vapors, Mars grows fiery red\\nDown in the west upon the ocean floor,\\nAppeared to me, would I again could see it!\\nA light along the sea, so swiftly coming.\\nIts motion by no flight of wing is equaled,\\nAnd when therefrom I had withdrawn a little\\nMine eyes, that I might question my con-\\nductor.\\nAgain I saw it brighter grown and larger.\\nThereafter, on all sides of it, appeared\\nI knew not what of white, and underneath,\\nLittle by little, there came forth another.\\nMy master yet had uttered not a word,\\nWhile the first brightness into wings unfolded\\nBut, when he clearly recognized the pilot,\\nHe cried aloud: Quick, quick, and bow the\\nknee!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 83\\nBehold the Angel of God! fold up thy hands!\\nHenceforward shalt thou see such officers!\\nSee, how he scorns all human arguments,\\nSo that no oar he wants, nor other sail\\nThan his own wings, between so distant shores\\nSee, how he holds them, pointed straight to\\nheaven,\\nFanning the air with the eternal pinions.\\nThat do not moult themselves like mortal hair\\nAnd then, as nearer and more near us came\\nThe Bird of Heaven, more glorious he appeared,\\nSo that the eye could not sustain his presence,\\nBut down I cast it and he came to shore\\nWith a small vessel, gliding swift and light.\\nSo that the water swallowed nought thereof.\\nUpon the stern stood the Celestial Pilot!\\nBeatitude seemed written in his face\\nAnd more than a hundred spirits sat within.\\n**In exitu Israel out of Egypt!\\nThus sang they all together in one voice,\\nWith whatso in that Psalm is after written.\\nThen made he sign of holy rood upon them,\\nWhereat all cast themselves upon the shore,\\nAnd he departed swiftly as he came.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "84 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE TERRESTRIAL PARADISE.\\nFROM DANTE. PURGATORIO, XXVIII.\\nLonging already to search in and round\\nThe heavenly forest, dense and living-green.\\nWhich to the eyes tempered the new-born day,\\nWithouten more delay I left the bank,\\nCrossing the level country slowly, slowly,\\nOver the soil, that everywhere breathed\\nfragrance.\\nA gently-breathing air, that no mutation\\nHad in itself, smote me upon the forehead.\\nNo heavier blow, than of a pleasant breeze,\\nWhereat the tremulous branches readily\\nDid all of them bow downward towards that\\nside\\nWhere its first shadow casts the Holy Mountain\\nYet not from their upright direction bent\\nSo that the little birds upon their tops\\nShould cease the practice of their tuneful art;", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 85\\nBut, with full-throated joy, the hours of prime\\nSinging received they in the midst of foliage\\nThat made monotonous burden to their rhymes,\\nEven as from branch to branch it gathering\\nswells,\\nThrough the pine forests on the shore of\\nChiassi,\\nWhen ui5^olus unlooses the Sirocco.\\nAlready my slow steps had led me on\\nInto the ancient wood so far, that I\\nCould see no more the place where I had\\nentered.\\nAnd lo my farther course cut off a river,\\nWhich, tov/ards the left hand, with its little\\nwaves.\\nBent down the grass, that on its margin sprang.\\nAll waters that on earth most limpid are\\nWould seem to have within themselves some\\nmixture.\\nCompared with that, which nothing doth con-\\nceal,\\nAlthough it moves on with a brown, brown\\ncurrent.\\nUnder the shade perpetual, that never\\nRay of the sun lets in, nor of the moon.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "86 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nBEATRICE.\\nFROM DANTE. PURGATORIO, XXX., XXXI.\\nEven as the Blessed, in the new covenant,\\nShall rise up quickened, each one from his\\ngrave,\\nWearing again the garments of the flesh.\\nSo, upon that celestial chariot,\\nA hundred rose ad vocem tanti senis,\\nMinisters and messengers of life eternal.\\nThey all were saying, Benedictus qui venis,\\nAnd scattering flowers above and round about,\\nManibus o date lilia plenis.\\nI once beheld, at the approach of day,\\nThe orient sky all stained with roseate hues\\nAnd the other heaven with light serene\\nadorned,\\nAnd the sun s face uprising, overshadowed,\\nSo that, by temperate influence of vapors.\\nThe eye sustained his aspect for long while", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 87\\nThus in the bosom of a cloud of flowers,\\nWhich from those hands angelic were thrown\\nup,\\nAnd down descended inside and without,\\nWith crown of olive o er a snow-white veil,\\nAppeared a lady, under a green mantle,\\nVested in colors of the living flame.\\nEven as the snow, among the living rafters\\nUpon the back of Italy, congeals.\\nBlown on and beaten by Sclavonian winds.\\nAnd then dissolving, filters through itself,\\nWhen er the land, that loses shadow breathes.\\nLike as a taper melts before a fire,\\nEven such I was, without a sigh or tear.\\nBefore the song of those who chime forever\\nAfter the chiming of the eternal spheres\\nBut, when I heard in those sweet melodies\\nCompassion for me, more than had they said,\\nO wherefore, lady, dost thou thus consume\\nhim?\\nThe ice, that was about my heart congealed,\\nTo air and water changed, and in my anguish.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "88 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThrough lips and eyes came gushing from my\\nbreast.\\nConfusion and dismay, together mingled,\\nForced such a feeble Yes! out of my mouth,\\nTo understand it one had need of sight.\\nEven as a cross-bow breaks, when tis dis-\\ncharged.\\nToo tensely drawn the bow-string and the bow,\\nAnd with less force the arrow hits the mark;\\nSo I gave way under this heavy burden,\\nGushing forth into bitter tears and sighs,\\nAnd the voice, fainting, flagged upon its pas-\\nsage.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 89\\nSPRING.\\nFROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES D ORLEANS, XV. CENTURY.\\nGentle Spring! in sunshine clad,\\nWell dost thou thy power display!\\nFor winter maketh the light heart sad,\\nAnd thou, thou makest the sad heart gay.\\nHe sees thee, and calls to his gloomy train,\\nThe sleet, and the snow, and the wind, and the\\nrain;\\nAnd they shrink away, and they flee in fear,\\nWhen thy merry step draws near.\\nWinter giveth the fields and the trees, so old.\\nTheir beards of icicles and snow\\nAnd the rain, it raineth so fast and cold.\\nWe must cower over the embers low\\nAnd, snugly housed from the wind and weather.\\nMope like birds that are changing feather.\\nBut the storm retires, and the sky grows clear,\\nWhen thy merry step draws near.\\nWinter maketh the sun in the gloomy sky\\nWrap him round with a mantle of cloud", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "90 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nBut, Heaven be praised, thy step is nigh\\nThou tearest away the mournful shroud,\\nAnd the earth looks bright and Winter surly,\\nWho has toiled for nought both late and early,\\nIs banished afar by the new-bom yeai;\\nWhen thy merry step draws near.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 91\\nTHE CHILD ASLEEP.\\nFROM THE FRENCH.\\nSweet babe! true portrait of thy father s face,\\nSleep on the bosom, that thy lips have\\npressed\\nSleep, little one and closely, gently place\\nThy drowsy eyelids on thy mother s breast.\\nUpon that tender eye, my little friend,\\nSoft sleep shall come, that cometh not to me\\nI watch to see thee, nourish thee, defend\\nTis sweet to watch for thee, alone for thee\\nHis arms fall down; sleep sits upon his brow;\\nHis eye is closed he sleeps, nor dreams of\\nharm.\\nWore not his cheek the apple s ruddy glow,\\nWould you not say he slept on Death s cold\\narm?\\nAwake, my boy I tremble with affright\\nAwake, and chase this fatal thought!\\nUnclose", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "92 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThine eye but for one moment on the light!\\nEven at the price of thine, give me repose\\nSweet error! he but slept, I breathe again\\nCome, gentle dreams, the hour of sleep\\nbeguile\\nO, when shall he, for whom I sigh in vain.\\nBeside me watch to see thy waking smile?", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE GRAVE.\\nFROM THE ANGLO-SAXON.\\nFor thee was a house built\\nEre thou wert born,\\nFor thee was a mould meant\\nEre thou of mother camest.\\nBut it is not made ready,\\nNor its depth measured,\\nNor is it seen\\nHow long it shall be.\\nNow I bring thee\\nWhere thou shall be\\nNow I shalt measure thee.\\nAnd the mould afterwards.\\nThy house is not\\nHighly timbered,\\nIt is unhigh and low;\\nWhen thou art therein.\\nThe heel- ways are low,\\nThe side-ways unhigh.\\nThe roof is built\\nThy breast full nigh.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "94 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nSo thou shalt in mould\\nDwell full cold,\\nDimly and dark.\\nDoorless is that house,\\nAnd dark it is within;\\nThere thou art fast detained\\nAnd Death hath the key.\\nLoathsome is that earth-house.\\nAnd grim within to dwell.\\nThere thou shalt dwell,\\nAnd worms shall divide thee.\\nThus thou art laid,\\nAnd leavest thy friends;\\nThou hast no friend,\\nWho will come to thee.\\nWho will ever see\\nHow that house pleaseth thee\\nWho will ever open\\nThe door for thee\\nAnd descend after thee.\\nFor soon thou art loathsome\\nAnd hateful to see.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 95\\nKING CHRISTIAN.\\nA NATIONAL SONG OF DENMARK. FROM THE DANISH OF\\nJOHANNES EVALD.\\nKing Christian stood by the loft mast\\nIn mist and smoke\\nHis sword was hammering so fast,\\nThrough Gothic helm and brain it passed\\nThen sank each hostile hulk and mast,\\nIn mist and smoke.\\nFly! shouted they, fly, he who can!\\nWho braves of Denmark s Christian\\nThe stroke?\\nNils Juel gave heed to the tempest s roar,\\nNow is the hour\\nHe hoisted his blood-red flag once more,\\nAnd smote upon the foe full sore.\\nAnd shouted loud, through the tempest s roar\\nNow is the hour!\\nFly! shouted they, for shelter fly!\\nOf Denmark s Juel who can defy\\nThe power?\\nNorth Sea! a glimpse of Wessel rent\\nThy murky sky!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "96 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThen champions to thine arms were sent\\nTerror and Death glared where he went\\nFrom the waves was heard a wail, that rent\\nThy murky sky!\\nFrom Denmark, thunders Tordenskiol\\nLet each to Heaven commend his soul.\\nAnd fly!\\nPath of the Dane to fame and might\\nDark-rolling wave\\nReceive thy friend, who, scorning flight,\\nGoes to meet danger with despite,\\nProudly as thou the tempest s might,\\nDark rolling- wave\\nAnd amid pleasures and alarms,\\nAnd war and victory, be thine arms\\nMy grave\\n\u00e2\u0099\u00a6Nils Juel was a celebrated Danish Admiral, and\\nPeder Wessel, a Vice-Admiral, who for his great\\nprowess received the popular title of Tordenskiold, or\\nThunders-shield. In childhood he was a tailor s ap-\\nprentice, and rose to his high rank before the age of\\ntwenty-eight, when he was killed in a duel.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 97\\nTHE HAPPIEST LAND.\\nFRAGMENT OF A MODERN BALLAD. FROM THE GERMAN.\\nThere sat one day in quiet,\\nBy an alehouse on the Rhine,\\nFour hale and hearty fellows,\\nAnd drank the precious wine.\\nThe landlord s daughter filled their cups,\\nAround the rustic board\\nThen sat they all so calm and still,\\nAnd spake not one rude word.\\nBut, when the maid departed,\\nA Swabian raised his hand,\\nAnd cried, all hot and flushed with wine,\\n**Long live the Swabian land!\\n**The greatest kingdom upon earth\\nCannot with that compare\\nWith all the stout and hardy men\\nAnd the nut-brown maidens there.\\nHa! cried a Saxon, laughing,\\nAnd dashed his beard with wine\\n7 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "98 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\n**I had rather live in Lapland,\\nThan that Swabian land of thine\\n**The goodliest land on all the earth,\\nIt is the Saxon land\\nThere have I as many maidens\\nAs fingers on this hand!\\nHold your tongues! both Swabian and\\nSaxon!\\nA bold Bohemian cries\\nIi there s a heaven upon this earth.\\nIn Bohemia it lies.\\nThere the tailor blows the flute.\\nAnd the cobbler blows the horn.\\nAnd the miner blows the bugle.\\nOver mountain gorge and bourn.\\n4:\\nAnd then the landlord s daughter\\nUp to heaven raised her hand.\\nAnd said, Ye may no more contend,\\nThere lies the happiest land!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 99\\nTHE WAVE.\\nFROM THE GERMAN OF TIEDGE.\\nWhither, thou turbid wave?\\nWhither, with so much haste,\\nAs if a thief wert thou?\\nI am the Wave of Life,\\nStained with my margin s dust;\\nFrom the struggle and the strife\\nOf the narrow stream I fly-\\nTo the Sea s immensity,\\nTo wash from me the slime\\nOf the muddy banks of Time.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "100 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE DEAD.\\nFROM THE GERMAN OF KLOPSTOCK.\\nHow they so softly rest,\\nAll, all the holy dead,\\nL^nto whose holy dwelling-place\\nNow doth my soul draw near!\\nHow they so softly rest,\\nAll in their silent graves,\\nDeep to corruption\\nSlowly down-sinking!\\nAnd they no longer weep,\\nHere, where complaint is still!\\nAnd they no longer feel,\\nHere, where all gladness flies!\\nAnd, by the cypresses\\nSoftly o ershadowed.\\nUntil the Angel\\nCalls them, they glnmber!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 101\\nTHE BIRD AND THE SHIP.\\nFROM THE GERMAN OF MULLER.\\n**The rivers rush into the sea,\\nBy castle and town they go\\nThe winds behind them merrily\\nTheir noisy trumpets blow.\\nThe clouds are passing far and high,\\nWe little birds in them play\\nAnd everything, that can sing and fly,\\nGoes with us, and far away.\\n**I greet thee, bonny boat! Whither, or\\nwhence\\nWith thy fluttering golden band?\\n**I greet thee, little bird! To the wide sea\\nI haste from the narrow land.\\n**Full and swollen is every sail;\\nI see no longer a hill,\\nI have trusted all to the sounding gale,\\nAnd it will not let me stand still.\\n**And wilt thou, little bird, go with us?\\nThou mayest stand on the mainmast tall,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "102 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nFor full to sinking is my house\\nWith merry companions all.\\nI need not and seek not company,\\nBonny boat, I can sing all alone\\nFor the mainmast tall too heavy am I,\\nBonny boat, I have wings of my own.\\nHigh over the sails, high over the mast,\\nWho shall gainsay these joys?\\nWhen thy merry companions are still, at last,\\nThou shalt hear the sound of my voice,\\n**Who neither may rest, nor listen may,\\nGod bless them, every one\\nI dart away, in the bright blue day,\\nAnd the golden fields of the sun.\\nThus do I sing my weary song.\\nWherever the four winds blow\\nAnd this same song, my whole life long.\\nNeither Poet not Printer may know.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 103\\nWHITHER?\\nFROM THE GERMAN OF MULLER.\\nI heard a brooklet gushing\\nFrom its rocky fountain near,\\nDown into the valley rushing,\\nSo fresh and wondrous clear.\\nI know not what came o er me,\\nNor who the counsel gave\\nBut I must hasten downward,\\nAll witlii ix^y pilgrim-st^ve\\nDownward, and ever farther.\\nAnd ever the brook beside\\nAnd ever fresher niurmured,\\nAnd ever 2le,^rejr, the t^^e,\\nIs this the way I was going?\\nWhither, O bropklet, say!\\nThou hast, with thy soft murmur,\\nMurmured niy s^e^s^^ aw^y.\\nWhat do I say of a murmur?\\nThat can no MUTmUV J?e", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "104 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTis the water-nymphs, that are singing\\nTheir roundelays tinder me.\\nLet them sing, my friend, let them murmur,\\nAnd wander merrily near\\nThe wheels of a mill are going\\nIn every brooklet clear.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 105\\nBEWARE!\\nFROM THE GERMAN.\\nI know a maiden fair to see,\\nTake care\\nShe can both false and friendly be,\\nBeware! Beware!\\nTrust her not,\\nShe is fooling thee\\nShe has two eyes, so soft and brown,\\nTake care!\\nShe gives a side-glance and looks down.\\nBeware! Beware!\\nTrust her not,\\nShe is fooling thee!\\nAnd she has hair of a golden hue.\\nTake care\\nAnd what she says, it is not true,\\nBeware! Beware!\\nTrust her not,\\nShe is fooling thee\\nShe has a bosom as white as snow,\\nTake care", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "J06 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\n.She jknows how miich it is best to show,\\nBeware! Beware!\\nTrust her not^\\n;Bhe Is fooling thi^^j\\nShe give:S th_e^ garl^n4 woven fair,\\nTake eare;!\\nIt is a fool s-cap for thee to wear,\\nBeware! Bewar^j\\nTrust her not,\\n5he is fooling ^h^i", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 107\\nSONG OF THE BELL.\\nFROM THE GERMAN.\\nBell thou soundest merrily,\\nWhen the bridal party\\nTo the church doth hie\\nBell, thou soundest solemnly,\\nWhen, on Sabbath morning,\\nFields deserted lie\\nBell! thou soundest merrily;\\nTellest thou at evening\\nBed-time draweth nigh!\\nBell! thou soundest mournfully;\\nTellest thou the bitter\\nParting hath gone by\\nSay! how canst thou mourn?\\nHow canst thou rejoice?\\nThou art but metal dull!\\nAnd yet all our sorrowings.\\nAnd all our rejoicings.\\nThou dost feel them all", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "108 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nGod hath wonders many,\\nWhich he cannot fathom\\nPlaced within thy form!\\nWhen the heart is sinking,\\nThou alone canst raise it,\\nTrembling in the storm", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 109\\nTHE CASTLE BY THE SEA.\\nFROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.\\nHast thou seen that lordly castle,\\nThat Castle by the Sea?\\nGolden and red above it\\nThe clouds float gorgeously.\\n**And fain it would stoop downward,\\nTo the mirrored wave below;\\nAnd fain it would soar upward\\nIn the evening s crimson glow.\\n**Well have I seen that castle,\\nThat castle by the Sea,\\nAnd the moon above it standing,\\nAnd the mist rise solemnly.\\n**The winds and the waves of ocean,\\nHad they a merry chime?\\nDidst thou hear, from those loftly chambers\\nThe harp and the minstrel s rhyme?\\nThe winds and the waves of ocean.\\nThey rested quietly.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "110 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nBut I heard on the gale a sound of wail,\\nAnd tears came to mine eye.\\nAnd sawest thou on the turrets\\nThe King and his royal bride?\\nAnd the wave of their crimson mantles?\\nAnd the golden crown of pride?\\nLed they not forth, in rapture,\\nA beauteous maiden there?\\nResplendent as the morning sun.\\nBeaming with golden hair?\\nWell saw I the ancient parents,\\nWithout the crown of pride\\nThey were moving slow, in weeds of woe,\\nNo maiden was by their side!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. Ill\\nTHE BLACK KNIGHT.\\nFROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.\\nTwas Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness,\\nWhen woods and fields put off all sadness.\\nThus began the King and spake\\nSo from the halls\\nOf ancient Hofburg s walls,\\nA luxuriant Spring shall break.\\nDrums and trumpets echo loudly.\\nWave the crimson banners proudly.\\nFrom balcony the King looked on\\nIn the play of spears.\\nFell all the cavaliers,\\nBefore the monarch s stalwart son.\\nTo the barrier of the fight\\nRode at last a sable Knight,\\nSir Knight! your name and scutcheon,\\nsay!\\nShould I speak it here,\\nYe would stand aghast with fear;\\nI m a Prince of mighty sway!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "112 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nWhen he rode into the lists,\\nThe arch of Heaven grew black with mists\\nAnd the castle gan to rock.\\nAt the first blow,\\nFell the youth from saddle-bow.\\nHardly rises from the shock.\\nPipe and viol call the dances.\\nTorch-light through the high halls glances\\nWaves a mighty shadow in\\nWith manner bland\\nDoth ask the maiden s hand,\\nDoth with her the dance begin\\nDanced in sable iron sark.\\nDanced a measure weird and dark.\\nColdly clasped her limbs around.\\nFrom breast and hair\\nDown fall from her the fair\\nFlowerets, faded, to the ground.\\nTo the sumptuous banquet came\\nEvery Knight and every Dame.\\nTwixt son and daughter all distraught.\\nWith mournful mind\\nThe ancient King reclined,\\nGazed at them in silent thought.\\nPale the children both did look,\\nBut the guest a breaker took", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "Hast thou. seen that lordly castle? Page 109.\\nLongfellow s Poems.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 113\\nGolden wine will make you whole!\\nThe children drank,\\nGave many a courteous thank\\n**0 that draught was very cool!\\nEach the father s breast embraces,\\nSon and daughter; and their faces\\nColorless grow utterly.\\nWhichever way\\nLooks the fear-struck father gray.\\nHe beholds his children die.\\nWoe! the blessed children both\\nTakest thou in the joy of youth\\nTake me, too, the joyless father!**\\nSpake the grim Guest,\\nFrom his hollow, cavernous breast-,\\nRoses in the spring I gather!\\n8 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "114 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nSONG OF THE SILENT LAND.\\nFROM THE GERMAN OF SALIS.\\nInto the Silent Land\\nAh! who shall lead us thither?\\nClouds in the evening sky more darkly gather,\\nAnd shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand.\\nWho leads us with a gentle hand\\nThither, O thither,\\nInto the Silent Land?\\nInto the Silent Land\\nTo you, ye boundless regions\\nOf all perfection Tender morning- visions\\nOf beauteous souls!\\nThe Future s pledge and band!\\nWho in Life s battle firm doth stand,\\nShall bear Hope s tender blossoms\\nInto the Silent Land!\\nO Land! O Land!\\nFor all the broken-hearted\\nThe mildest herald by our fate allotted.\\nBeckons, and with inverted torch doth stand\\nTo lead us with a gentle hand\\nInto the land of the great Departed,\\nInto the Silent Land!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 115\\nL ENVOI.\\nYe voices, that arose\\nAfter the Evening s close,\\nAnd whispered to my restless heart repose.\\nGo, breathe it in the ear\\nOf all who doubt and fear.\\nAnd say to them, *Be of good cheer!\\nYe sounds, so low and calm,\\nThat in the groves of balm\\nSeemed to me like an angel s psalm!\\nGo, mingle yet once more\\nWith the perpetual roar\\nOf the pine forest, dark and hoar\\nTongues of the dead, not lost,\\nBut speaking from death s frost,\\nLike fiery tongues at Pentecost!\\nGlimmer, as funeral lamps,\\nAmid the chills and damps\\nOf the vast plain where Death encamps!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "BALLADS\\nAND OTHER POEMS.\\n117", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "PREFACE.\\nThere is one poem in this volume, in refer-\\nence to which a few introductory remarks may\\nbe useful. It is *The Children of the Lord s\\nSupper, from the Swedish of Bishop Tegner;\\na poem which enjoys no inconsiderable reputa-\\ntion in the North of Europe, and for its beauty\\nand simplicity merits the attention of English\\nreaders. It is an Idyl, descriptive of scenes in\\na Swedish village; and belongs to the same\\nclass of poems as the Luise of Voss and the\\nHermann und Dorothea of Goethe. But the\\nSwedish Poet has been guided by a surer taste\\nthan his German predecessors. His tone is\\npure and elevated and he rarely, if ever, mis-\\ntakes what is trivial for what is simple.\\nThere is something patriarchal still linger-\\ning about rural life in Sweden, which renders\\nit a fit theme for song. Almost primeval sim-\\nplicity reigns over that Northern land,\\nalmost primeval solitude and stillness. You\\npass out from the gate of the city, and, as if by\\nmagic, the scene changes to a wild, woodland\\nlandscape. Around you are forests of fir.\\n119", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "120 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nOverhead hang- the long, fan-like branches,\\ntrailing with moss, and heavy with red and\\nblue cones. Under foot is a carpet of yellow\\nleaves; and the air is warm and balmy. On\\na wooden bridge you cross a little silver stream\\nand anon come forth into a pleasant and sunny\\nland of farms. Wooden fences divide the\\nadjoining fields. Across the road are gates,\\nwhich are opened by troops of children. The\\npeasants take off their hats as you pass you\\nsneeze, and they cry, God bless you. The\\nhouses in the villages and smaller towns are\\nall built of hewn timber, and for the most part\\npainted red. The floors of the taverns are\\nstrewn with the fragrant tips of fir boughs.\\nIn many villages there are no taverns, and the\\npeasants take turns in receiving travelers.\\nThe thrifty housewife shows you into the best\\nchamber, the walls of which are hung round\\nwith rude pictures from the Bible and brings\\nyou her heavy silver spoons, an heirloom,\\nto dip the curdled milk from the pan. You\\nhave oaten cakes baked some months be-\\nfore; or bread with anise-seed and coriander\\nin it, or perhaps a little pine bark.\\nMeanwhile the sturdy husband has brought\\nhis horses from the plough, and harnessed\\nthem to your carriage. Solitary travelers", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 121\\ncome and go in uncouth one-horse chaises.\\nMost of them have pipes in their mouths, and\\nhanging around their necks in front, a leather\\nwallet, in which they carry tobacco, and the\\ngreat bank-notes of the country, as large as\\nyour two hands. You meet, also, groups of\\nDalekarlian peasant women, traveling home-\\nward or townward in pursuit of work. They\\nwalk barefoot, carrying in their hands their\\nshoes, which have high heels under the hol-\\nlow of the foot, and soles of birch bark.\\nFrequent, too, are the village churches,\\nstanding by the road-side, each in its own little\\ngarden of Gethsemane. In the parish register\\ngreat events are doubtless recorded. Some old\\nking was chritsened or buried in that church\\nand a little sexton, with a rusty key, shows\\nyou the baptismal font, or the coffin. In the\\nchurchyard are a few flowers, and much green\\ngrass; and daily the shadow of the church\\nspire, with its long tapering fingers counts the\\ntombs, repesenting a dial-plate of human life,\\non which the hours and minutes are the graves\\nof men. The stones are flat, and large, and\\nlow, and perhaps sunken, like the roofs of old\\nhouses. On some are armorial bearings; on\\nothers only the initials of the poor tenants,\\nwith a date, as on the roofs of Dutch cottages.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "122 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThey all sleep with their heads to the west-\\nward. Each held a lighted taper in his hand\\nwhen he died and in his coffin were placed his\\nlittle heart-treasures, and a piece of money for\\nhis last journey. Babes that came lifeless into\\nthe world were carried in the arms of gray-\\nhaired old men to the only cradle they ever\\nslept in and in the shroud of the dead mother\\nwere laid the little garments of the child that\\nlived and died in her bosom. And over this\\nscene the village pastor looks from his window\\nin the stillness of midnight, and says in his\\nheart, How quietly they rest, all the de-\\nparted!\\nNear the churchyard gate stands a poor-box,\\nfastened to a post by iron bands, and secured\\nby a padlock, with a sloping wooden roof to\\nkeep off the rain. If it be Sunday, the\\npeasants sit on the church steps and con their\\npsalm-books. Others are coming down the\\nroad with their beloved pastor, who talks to\\nthem of holy things from beneath his broad-\\nbrimmed hat. He speaks of fields and har-\\nvests, and of the parable of the sower, that\\nwent forth to sow. He leads them to the Good\\nShepherd, and to the pleasant pastures of the\\nspirit-land: He is their patriarch, and, like\\nMelchizedek, both priest and king, though he", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 123\\nhas no other throne than the church pulpit.\\nThe women carry psalm-books in their hands,\\nwrapped in silk handkerchiefs, and listen de-\\nvoutly to the good man s words. But the\\nyoung men, like Gallio, care for none of these\\nthings. They are busy counting the plaits in\\nthe kirtles of the peasant girls, their number\\nbeing an indication of the wearer s wealth.\\nIt may end in a wedding.\\nI will endeavor to describe a village wedding\\nin Sweden. It shall be in summer time, that\\nthere may be flowers, and in a southern prov-\\nince, that the bride may be fair. The early\\nsong of the lark and of chanticleer are mingling\\nin the clear morning air, and the sun, the\\nheavenly bridegroom with golden locks, arises\\nin the east, just as our earthly bridegroom with\\nyellow hair arises in the south. In the yard,\\nthere is a sound of voices and trampling of\\nhoofs, and horses are led forth and saddled.\\nThe steed that is to bear the bridegroom has a\\nbunch of flowers upon his forehead, and a gar-\\nland of corn-flowers around his neck. Friends\\nfrom the neighboring farms come riding in^\\ntheir blue coats streaming to the wind and\\nfinally the happy bridegroom, with a whip in\\nhis hand, and a monstrous nosegay in the\\nbreast of his black jacket, comes forth from", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "124 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nhis chamber and then to horse and away, to-\\nwards the village where the bride already sits\\nand waits.\\nForemost rides the Spokesman, followed by\\nsome half-dozen village musicians. Next\\ncomes the bridegroom between his two grooms-\\nmen, and then forty or fifty friends and wed-\\nding guests, half of them perhaps with pistols\\nand guns in their hands. A kind of baggage-\\nwagon brings up the rear, laden with food and\\ndrink for these merry pilgrims. At the en-\\ntrance of every village stands a triumphal\\narch, adorned with flowers and ribbons and\\nevergreens; and as they pass beneath it the\\nwedding guests fire a salute, and the whole\\nprocession stops. And straight from every\\npocket flies a black-jack, filled with punch or\\nbrandy. It is passed from hand to hand among\\nthe crowd; provisions are brought from the\\nwagon, and after eating and drinking and hur-\\nrahing, the procession moves forward again,\\nand at length draws near the house of the\\nbride. Four heralds ride forward to an-\\nnounce that a knight and his attendants are in\\nthe neighboring forest, and pray for hospital-\\nity. How many are you? asks the bride s\\nfather. At least three hundred, is the an-\\nswer; and to this the host replies, Yes; were", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 125\\nyou seven times as many, you should all be\\nwelcome; and in token thereof receive this\\ncup. Whereupon each herald receives a can\\nof ale; and soon after the whole jovial com-\\npany comes storming into the farmer s yard,\\nand riding round the May- pole, which stands\\nin the centre, alights amid a grand salute and\\nflourish of mUsic.\\nIn the hall sits the bride, with a crown upon\\nher head and a tear in her eye, like the Virgin\\nMary in old church paintings. She is dressed\\nin a red bodice and kirtle, with loose linen\\nsleeves. There is a gilded belt around her\\nwaist; and around her neck strings of golden\\nbeads, and a golden chain. On the crown\\nrests a wreath of wild roses, and below it an-\\nother of cypress. Loose over her shoulders\\nfalls her flaxen hair; and her blue innocent\\neyes are fixed upon the ground. O thou good\\nsoul! thou hast hard hands, but a soft heart!\\nThou art poor. The very ornaments thou\\nwearest are not thine. They have been hired\\nfor this great day. Yet art thou rich rich in\\nhealth, rich in hope, rich in thy first, young,\\nfervent love. The blessing of heaven be upon\\nthee! So thinks the parish priest, as he joins\\ntogether the hands of bride and bridegroom,\\nsaying in deep, solemn tones, I give thee in", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "126 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nmarriag-e this damsel, to be thy wedded wife in\\nall honor, and to share the half of thy bed, thy\\nlock and key, and every third penny which yon\\ntwo may possess, or may inherit, and all the\\nrights which Upland s laws provide, and the\\nholy king Erik gave.\\nThe dinner is now served, and the bride\\nsits between the bridegroom and the priest.\\nThe Spokesman delivers an oration after the\\nancient custom of his fathers. He interlards\\nit well with quotations from the Bible; and\\ninvites the Savior to be present at this mar-\\nriage feast, as he was at the marriage feast in\\nCana of Galilee. The table is not sparingly\\nset forth. Each makes a long arm, and the\\nfeast goes cheerily on. Punch and brandy\\npass round between the courses, and here and\\nthere a pipe is smoked, while waiting for the\\nnext dish. They sit long at table but, as all\\nthings must have an end, so must a Swedish\\ndinner. Then the dance begins. It is led off\\nby the bride and the priest, who perform a\\nsolemn minuet together. Not till after mid-\\nnight comes the Last Dance. The girls form\\na ring around the bride, to keep her from the\\nhands of the married women, who endeavor to\\nbreak through the magic circle, and seize their\\nnew sister. After long struggling they sue-", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 127\\nceed and the crown is taken from her head\\nand the jewels from her neck, and her bodice\\nis unlaced and her kirtle taken off; and like a\\nvestal virgin clad all in white she goes, but it\\nis to her marriage chamber, not to her grave\\nand the wedding guests follow her with lighted\\ncandles in their hands. And this is a village\\nbridal.\\nNor must I forget the suddenly changing\\nseasons of the Northern clime. There is no\\nlong and lingering spring, unfolding leaf and\\nblossom one by one no long and lingering\\nautumn, pompous with many-colored leaves\\nand the glow of Indian summers. But winter\\nand summer are wonderful, and pass into each\\nother. The quail has hardly ceased piping in\\nthe corn, when winter from the folds of trail-\\ning clouds sows broadcast over the land snow,\\nicicles, and rattling hail. The days wane\\napace. Ere long the sun hardly rises above\\nthe horizon or does not rise at all. The moon\\nand the stars shine through the day; only, at\\nnoon, they are pale and wan, and in the south-\\nern sky a red, fiery glow, as of sunset, burns\\nalong the horizon, and then goes out. And\\npleasantly under the silver moon, and under\\nthe silent, solemn stars, ring the steel-shoes of", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "128 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nthe skaters on the frozen sea, and voices, and\\nthe sound of bells.\\nAnd now the Northern Lights begin to\\nburn, faintly at first, like sunbeams playing in\\nthe waters of the blue sea. Then a soft crim-\\nson glow tinges the heavens. There is a blsuh\\non the cheek of night. The colors come and\\ngo; and change from crimson to gold, from\\ngold to crimson. The snow is stained with\\nrosy light. Twofold from the zenith, east and\\nwest, flames a fiery sword; and a broad band\\npasses athwart the heavens, like a summer sun-\\nset. Soft purple clouds come sailing over the\\nsky, and through their vapory folds the wink-\\ning stars shine white as silver. With such\\npomp as this is Merry Christmas ushered in,\\nthough only a single star heralded the first\\nChristmas. And in memory of that day the\\nSwedish peasants dance on straw; and the\\npeasant girls throw straws at the timbered roof\\nof the hall, and for every one that sticks in a\\ncrack shall a groomsman come to their wed-\\nding. Merry Christmas, indeed! For pious\\nsouls there shall be church songs and sermons,\\nbut for Swedish peasants, brandy and nut\\nbrown ale in wooden bowls; and the great\\nYule-cake crowned with a cheese, and gar-\\nlanded with apples, and upholding a three-", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 129\\narmed candlestick over the Christmas feast.\\nThey may tell tales, too, of Jons Lundsbracka,\\nand Lunkenfus, and the great Riddar Finke of\\nPingsdaga.*\\nAnd now the glad, leafy midsummer, full of\\nblossoms and the song of nightingales, is\\ncome! Saint John has taken the flowers and\\nfestival of heathen Balder and in every vil-\\nlage there is a May-pole fifty feet high, with\\nwreaths and roses and ribbons streaming in\\nthe wind, and a noisy weathercock on top to\\ntell the village whence the wind cometh and\\nwhither it goeth. The sun does not set till\\nten o clock at night; and the children are at\\nplay in the streets an hour later. The win-\\ndows and doors are all open, and you may sit\\nand read till midnight without a candle. O\\nhow beautiful is the summer night, which is\\nnot night, but a sunless yet unclouded day,\\ndescending upon earth with dews, and\\nshadows, and refreshing coolness! How\\nbeautiful the long, mild twilight, which like a\\nsilver clasp unites to-day with yesterday!\\nHow beautiful the silent hour, when Morning\\nand Evening thus sit together, hand in hand,\\nbeneath the starless sky of midnight! From\\nthe church-tower in the public square the bell\\nTitles of Swedish popular tales.\\n9 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "130 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\ntolls the hour, with a soft, musical chime and\\nthe watchman, whose watch-tower is the bel-\\nfry, blows a blast in his horn, for each stroke\\nof the hammer and four times, to the four cor-\\nners of the heavens, in a sonorous voice he\\nchants,\\nHo! watchman, ho!\\nTwelve is the clock\\nGod keep our town\\nFrom fire and brand\\nAnd hostile hand\\nTwelve is the clock!\\nFrom his swallow s nest in the belfry he can\\nsee the sun all night long and farther north\\nthe priest stands at his door in the warm mid-\\nnight, and lights his pipe with a common\\nburning glass.\\nI trust that these remarks will not be\\ndeemed irrelevant to the poem, but will lead\\nto a clearer understanding of it. The transla-\\ntion is literal, perhaps to a fault. In no in-\\nstance have I done the author a wrong, by\\nintroducing into his work any supposed im-\\nprovements or embellishments of my own. I\\nhave preserved even the measure that inexor-\\nable hexameter, in which, it must be con-\\nfessed, the motions of the English Muse are\\nnot unlike those of a prisoner dancing to the\\nmusic of his chains and perhaps, as Dr. John-", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 131\\nson said of the dancing dog, the wonder is\\nnot that she should do it so well, but that she\\nshould do it at all.\\nEsaias Tegner, the author of this poem, was\\nborn in the parish of By in Warmland, in the\\nyear 1782. In 1799 he entered the University\\nof Lund, as a student; and in 18 12 was ap-\\npointed Professor of Greek in that institution.\\nIn 1824 he became Bishop of Wexio, which\\noffice he still holds. He stands first among all\\nthe poets of Sweden, living or dead. His prin-\\ncipal work is Frithiofs Saga; one of the most\\nremarkable poems of the age. This modern\\nScald has written his name in immortal runes.\\nHe is the glory and boast of Sweden; a\\nprophet honored in his own country, and add-\\ning one more to the list of great names, that\\nadorn her history.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "132 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE SKELETON IN ARMOR.\\n[The following Ballad was suggested to me\\nwhile riding on the seashore at Newport. A\\nyear or two previous a skeleton had been dug\\nup at Fall River, clad in broken and corroded\\narmor; and the idea occurred to me of connect-\\ning it with the Round Tower at Newport,\\ngenerally known hitherto as the Old Wind Mill,\\nthough now claimed by the Danes as a work of\\ntheir early ancestors. Professor Rafn, in the\\nMemoires de la Societe Royale des Anti-\\nquaries du Nord, for 1838-1839, says:\\nThere is no mistaking in this instance the\\nstyle in which the more ancient stone edifices\\nof the North were constructed, the style which\\nbelongs to the Roman or Ante- Gothic architec-\\nture, and which, especially, after the time of\\nCharlemagne, diffused itself from Italy over\\nthe whole of the West and the North of\\nEurope, where it continued to predominate\\nuntil the close of the 12th century; that style,\\nwhich some authors have, from one of its most\\nstriking characteristics, called the round arch\\nstyle, the same which in England is denomi-\\nnated Saxon and sometimes Norman architec-\\nture.\\nOn the ancient structure in Newport there\\nare no ornaments remaining, which might\\npossibly have served to guide us in assigning", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 133\\nthe probable date of its erection. That no ves-\\ntige whatever is found of the pointed arch nor\\nany approximation to it, is indicative of an\\nearlier rather than of a later period. From\\nsuch characteristics as remain, however, we\\ncan scarcely form any other inference than one,\\nin which I am persuaded that all, who are\\nfamiliar with Old-Northern architecture, will\\nconcur, that this building was erected at a\\nperiod decidedly not later than the 12th cen-\\ntury. This remark applies, of course, to the\\noriginal building only, and not to the altera-\\ntions that it subsequently received for there\\nare several such alterations in the upper part\\nof the building which cannot be mistaken, and\\nwhich were most likely occasioned by its being\\nadapted in modern times to various uses, for\\nexample as the substructure of a wind-mill,\\nand latterly as a hay magazine. To the same\\ntimes may be referred the windows, the fire-\\nplace, and the apertures made above the\\ncolumns. That this building could not have\\nbeen erected for a wind-mill, is what an archi-\\ntect will easily discern.\\nI will not enter into a discussion of the point.\\nIt is sufficiently well established for the pur-\\npose of a ballad; though doubtless many an\\nhonest citizen of Newport, who has passed his\\ndays within sight of the Round Tower, will be\\nready to exclaim with Sancho God bless me\\ndid I not warn you to have a care of what you\\nwere doing, for that it was nothing but a wind-\\nmill; and nobody could mistake it, but one\\nwho had the like in his head.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "134 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nSpeak! speak! thou fearful guest!\\nWho, with thy hollow breast\\nStill in rude armor drest,\\nComest to daunt me\\nWrapt not in Eastern balms,\\nBut with thy fieshless palms\\nStretched, as if asking alms,\\nWhy dost thou haunt me?\\nTE^h, from those cavernous eyes\\nPaTe flashes^ seemed to rise,\\nAs when the Northern skies\\nGleam in December;\\nAnd, like the water s flow\\nUnder December s snow,\\nCame a dull voice of woe\\nFrom the heart s chamber.\\n**I was a Viking old!\\nMy deeds, though manifold,\\nNo Skald in song has told.\\nNo Saga taught thee\\nTake heed, that in thy verse\\nThou dost the tale rehearse.\\nElse dread a dead man s curse!\\nFor this I sought thee.\\nFar in the Northern Land,\\nBy the wild Baltic s strand,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 135\\nI, with my childish hand,\\nTamed the ger-f alcon\\nAnd, with my skates fast-bound,\\nSkimmed the half-frozen Sound,\\nThat the poor whimpering hound\\nTrembled to walk on.\\nOft to his frozen lair\\nTracked I the grisly bear,\\nWhile from my path the hare\\nFled like a shadow\\nOft through the forest dark\\nFollowed the were-wolf s bark,\\nUntil the soaring lark\\nSang from the meadow.\\n**But when I older grew,\\nJoining a corsair s crew,\\nO er the dark sea I flew\\nWith the marauders.\\nWild was the life we led;\\nMany the souls that sped.\\nMany the hearts that bled,\\nBy our stern orders.\\nMany a wassail-bout\\nWore the long Winter out;\\nOften our midnight shout\\nSet the cocks crowing.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "136 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nA.S we the Berserk s tale\\nMeasured in cups of ale,\\nDraining the oaken pail,\\nFilled to o erflowing.\\n**Once as I told in glee\\nTales of the stormy sea,\\nSoft eyes did gaze on me,\\nBurning yet tender;\\nAnd as the white stars shine\\nOn the dark Norway pine,\\nOn that dark heart of mine\\nFell their soft splendor.\\nI wooed the blue-eyed maid,\\nYielding, yet half-afraid.\\nAnd in the forest s shade\\nOur vows were plighted.\\nUnder its loosened vest\\nFluttered her little breast.\\nLike birds within their nest\\nBy the hawk frighted.\\nBright in her father s hall,\\nShields gleamed upon the wall.\\nLoud sang the minstrels all,\\nChaunting his glory;\\nWhen of old Hildebrand\\nI asked his daughter s hand,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 1S7\\nMute did the minstrels stand\\nTo hear my story,\\n*While the brown ale he quaffed,\\nLoud then the champion laughed,\\nAnd as the wind-gusts waft\\nThe sea-foam brightly,\\nSo the loud laugh of scorn,\\nOut of those lips unshorn,\\nFrom the deep drinking-horn\\nBlew the foam lightly.\\n**She was a Prince s child,\\nI but a Viking wild,\\nAnd though she blushed and smiled,\\nI was discarded\\nShould not the dove so white\\nFollow the sea-mew s flight.\\nWhy did they leave that night\\nHer nest unguarded?\\nScarce had I put to sea,\\nBearing the maid with me,\\nFairest of all was she\\nAmong the Norsemen!\\nWhen on the white sea-strand,\\nWaving his armed hand,\\nSaw we old Hildebrand,\\nWith twenty horsemen.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "138 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\n*Then launched they to the blast,\\nBent like a reed each mast,\\nYet we were gaining fast,\\nWhen the wind failed us\\nAnd with a sudden flaw\\nCame round the gusty Skaw,\\nSo that our foe we saw\\nLaugh as he hailed us.\\n**And as to catch the gale\\nRound veered the flapping sail,\\nDeath! was the helmsman s hail,\\nDeath without quarter!\\nMid-ships with iron keel\\nStruck we her ribs of steel;\\nDown her black hulk did reel\\nThrough the black water!\\n**As with his wings aslant,\\nSails the fierce cormorant,\\nSeeking some rocky haunt,\\nWith his prey laden.\\nSo toward the open main,\\nBeating to sea again,\\nThrough the wild hurricane,\\nBore I the maiden.\\nThree weeks we westward bore,\\nAnd when the storm was o er.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 139\\nCloud-like we saw the shore\\nStretching to lee-ward;\\nThere for my lady s bower\\nBuilt I the lofty tower,\\nWhich, to this very hour,\\nStands looking sea- ward.\\nThere lived we many years;\\nTime dried the maiden s tears;\\nShe had forgot her fears,\\nShe was a mother\\nDeath closed her mild blue eyes,\\nUnder that tower she lies;\\nNe er shall the sun arise\\nOn such another!\\nStill grew my bosom then,\\nStill as a stagnant fen\\nHateful to me were men,\\nThe sunlight hateful!\\nIn the vast forest here.\\nClad in my warlike gear,\\nFell I upon my spear,\\nO, death was grateful!\\nThus, seamed with man)?- scars.\\nBursting these prison bars,\\nUp to its native stars\\nMy soul ascended", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "140 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThere from the flowing bowl\\nDeep drinks the warrior s soul,\\nSkoal! to the Northland! Skoal!\\nThus the tale ended.\\nIn Scandinavia this is the customary salutation\\nwhen drinking a health, I have slightly changed the\\northography of the word, in order to preserve the cor-\\nrect pronunciation.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 141\\nTHE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS.\\n/_ _ y _ _\\nIt was the schooner Hesperus,\\nThat sailed the wintry sea;\\nAnd the skipper had taken his little daughter,\\nTo bear him company.\\nBlue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,\\nHer cheeks like the dawn of day.\\nAnd her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,\\nThat ope in the month of May.\\nThe skipper he stood beside the helm,\\nWith his pipe in his mouth,\\nAnd watched how the veering flaw did blow\\nThe smoke now West, now South.\\nThen up and spake an old Sailor,\\nHad sailed the Spanish Main,\\n**I pray thee, put into yonder port,\\nFor I fear a hurricane.\\nLast night, the moon had a golden ring,\\nAnd to-night no moon we see!\\nThe skipper he blew a whiff from his pipe\\nAnd a scornful laugh laughed he.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "14-2 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nColder and louder blew the wind,\\nA gale from the Northeast\\nThe snow fell hissing in the brine,\\nAnd the billows frothed like yeast.\\nDown came the storm, and smote amain,\\nThe vessel in its strength\\nShe shuddered and paused, like a frighted\\nsteed,\\nThen leaped her cable s length.\\nCome hither! come hither! my little daughter^\\nAnd do not tremble so\\nFor I can weather the roughest gale,\\nThat ever wind did blow.\\nHe wrapped her warm in his seaman s coat\\nAgainst the stinging blast;\\nHe cut a rope from a broken spar.\\nAnd bound her to the mast..\\nO father! I hear the church-bells ring,\\nO say, what may it be?\\nT is a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!\\nAnd he steered for the open sea.\\n**0 father! I hear the sound of guns,\\nO say, what may it be?", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 143\\n**Some ship in distress, that cannot live\\nIn such an angry sea\\n*0 father! I see a gleaming light,\\nO say, what may it be?\\nBut the father answered never a word,\\nA frozen corpse was he.\\nLashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,\\nWith his face to the skies,\\nThe lantern gleamed through the gleaming\\nsnow\\nOn his fixed and glassy eyes.\\nThen the maiden clasped her hands and prayed\\nThat saved she might be;\\nAnd she thought of Christ, who stilled the\\nwave.\\nOn the Lake of Galilee.\\nAnd fast through the midnight dark and drear,\\nThrough the whistling sleet and snow,\\nLike a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept\\nTowards the reef of Norman s Woe,\\nAnd ever the fitful gusts between\\nA sound came from the land;\\nIt was the sound of the trampling surf,\\nOn the rocks and the hard sea-sand.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "144 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThe breakers were right beneath her bows,\\nShe drifted a dreary wreck,\\nAnd a whooping billow swept the crew\\nLike icicles from her deck.\\nShe struck where the white and fleecy waves\\nLooked soft as carded wool,\\nBut the cruel rocks, they gored her side\\nLike the horns of an angry bull.\\nHer rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,\\nWith the masts went by the board\\nLike a vessel of glass, she strove and sank\\nHo I ho the breakers roared\\nAt day break, on the bleak sea-beach,\\nA fisherman stood aghast,\\nTo see the form of a maiden fair,\\nLashed close to a drifting mast.\\nThe salt sea was frozen on her breast,\\nThe salt tears in her eyes\\nAnd he saw her hair, like the brown sea weed\\nOn the billows fall and rise.\\nSuch was the wreck of the Hesperus,\\nIn the midnight and the snow\\nChrist save us all from a death lie this.\\nOn the reef of Norman s woe!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 145\\nTHE LUCK OF EDENHALL.\\nFROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.\\n[The tradition, upon which this ballad is founded,\\nand the shards of the Luck of Edenhall, still exist in\\nEngland. The goblet is in the possession of Sir Chris-\\ntopher Musgrave, Bart., of Eden Hall, Cumberland;\\nand is not so entirely shattered, as the ballad leaves it]\\nOf Edenhall, the youthful Lord\\nBids sound the festal trumpet s call:\\nHe rises at the banquet board,\\nAnd cries, mid the drunken revelers all,\\nNow, bring me the Luck of Edenhall!\\nThe butler hears the words with pain,\\nThe house s oldest seneschal.\\nTakes slow from its silken cloth again\\nThe drinking glass of crystal tall\\nThey call it the Luck of Edenhall.\\nThen said the Lord: This glass to praise,\\nFill with red wine from Portugal!\\nThe gray-beard with trembling hand obeys\\nA purple light shines over all,\\nIt beams from the Luck of Edenhall.\\n10 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "146 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThen speaks the Lord, and waves it light\\nThis glass of flashing crystal tall\\nGave to my sires the Fountain Sprite\\nShe wrote in it: If this glass doth fall\\nFarewell then, O Luck of Edenhall!\\nTwas right a goblet the Fate should be\\nOf the joyous race of Edenhall!\\nDeep draughts drink we right willingly;\\nAnd willingly ring, with merry call,\\nKling! klang! to the Luck of Edenhall!\\nFirst rings it deep, and full, and mild,\\nLike to the song of a nightingale\\nThen like the roar of a torrent wild\\nThen mutters at last like the thunder s fall.\\nThe glorious Luck of Edenhall.\\nFor its keeper takes a race of might.\\nThe fragile goblet of crystal tall\\nIt has lasted longer than is right;\\nKling! klang! with a harder blow than all\\nWill I try the Luck of Edenhall!\\nAs the goblet ringing flies apart.\\nSuddenly cracks the vaulted hall\\nAnd through the rift, the wild flames start\\nThe guests in dust are scattered all,\\nWith the breaking Luck of Edenhall", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 147\\nIn Storms of foe, with fire and sword\\nHe in the night had scaled the wall,\\nSlain by the sword lies the youthful Lord,\\nBut holds in his hand the crystal tall.\\nThe shattered Luck of Edenhall.\\nOn the morrow the butler gropes alone,\\nThe gray-beard in the desert hall.\\nHe seeks his Lord s burnt skeleton\\nHe seeks in the dismal ruin s fall\\nThe shards of the Luck of Edenhall.\\nThe stone wall, saith he, doth fall aside,\\nDown must the stately columns fall\\nGlass is this earth s Luck and Pride;\\nIn atoms shall fall this earthly ball\\nOne day like the Luck of Edenhall!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "148 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE ELECTED KNIGHT.\\nFROM THE DANISH.\\n[The following strange and somewhat mystical ballad\\nis from Nyerup and Rahbek s Danske Viser of the Mid-\\ndle Ages. It seems to refer to the first preaching of\\nChristianity in the North, and to the institution of\\nKnight-Errantry. The three maidens I suppose to be\\nFaith, Hope, and Charity. The irregularities of the\\noriginal have been carefully preserved in the trans-\\nlation.]\\nSir Oliif he ridetli over the plain,\\nFull seven miles broad and seven miles wide,\\nBut never, ah, never can meet with the man\\nA tilt with him dare ride.\\nHe saw under the hill-side\\nA Knight full well equipped\\nHis steed was black, his helm was barred;\\nHe was riding at full speed.\\nHe wore upon his spurs\\nTwelve little golden birds\\nAnon he spurred his steed with a clang,\\nAnd there sat all the birds and sang.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 149\\nHe wore upon his mail\\nTwelve little golden wheels;\\nAnon in eddies the wild wind blew,\\nAnd round and round the wheels they flew.\\nHe wore before his breast\\nA lance that was poised in rest;\\nAnd it was sharper than diamond-stone,\\nIt made Sir Oluf s heart to groan.\\nHe wore upon his helm\\nA wreath of ruddy gold;\\nAnd that gave him the Maidens Three,\\nThe youngest v/as fair to behold.\\nSir Oluf questioned the Knight eftsoon\\nIf he were come from heaven down\\nArt thou Christ of Heaven, quoth he,\\nSo v.dll I yield me unto thee.\\nI am not Christ the Great,\\nThou shalt not yield thee yet\\nI am an Unknown Knight,\\nThree modest Maidens have me bedisrht.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2^ta\\nArt thou a Knight elected,\\nAnd have three Maidens thee bedight\\nSo shalt thou ride a tilt this day.\\nFor all the Maidens honor!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "150 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThe first tilt they together rode,\\nThey put their steeds to the test\\nThe second tilt they together rode,\\nThey proved their manhood best.\\nThe third tilt they together rode,\\nNeither of them would yield\\nThe fourth tilt they together rode,\\nThey both fell on the field.\\nNow lie the lords upon the plain,\\nAnd their blood runs unto death;\\nNow sit the Maidens in the high tower,\\nThe youngest sorrows till death.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 151\\nTHE CHILDREN OF THE LORD S\\nSUPPER.\\nFROM THE SWEDISH OF BISHOP TEGNOR.\\nPentecost, day of rejoicing, had come. The\\nchurch of the village\\nStood gleaming white in the morning s sheen.\\nOn the spire of the belfry.\\nTipped with a vane of metal, the friendly\\nflames of the Spring- sun\\nGlanced like the tongues of fire, beheld by\\nApostles aforetime.\\nClear was the heaven and blue, and May, with\\nher cap crowned with roses.\\nStood in her holiday dress in the fields, and\\nthe wind and the brooklet\\nMurmured gladness and peace, God s-peace!\\nWith lips rosy-tinted\\nWhispered the race of the flowers, and merry\\non balancing branches\\nBirds were singing their carol, a jubilant hymn\\nto the Highest.\\nSwept and clean was the churchyard. Adorned\\nlike a leaf- woven arbor", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "1\u00c2\u00a32 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nStood its old-fashioned gate; and within upon\\neach cross of iron\\nHung was a sweet-scented garland, new twined\\nby the hands of affection.\\nEven the dial, that stood on a fountain among\\nthe departed\\n(There full a hundred years had it stood), was\\nembellished with blossoms.\\nLike to the patriarch hoary, the sage of his\\nkith and the hamlet.\\nWho on his birthday is crowned by children\\nand children s children,\\nSo stood the ancient prophet, and mute with\\npencil of iron\\nMarked on the table of stone, and measured\\nthe swift-changing moment,\\nWhile all around at his feet, an eternity slum-\\nbered in quiet.\\nAlso the church within was adorned, for this\\nwas the season\\nIn which the young, their parent s hope, and\\nthe loved-ones of heaven.\\nShould at the foot of the altar renew the vows\\nof their baptism.\\nTherefore each nook and corner was swept and\\ncleaned, and the dust was\\nBlown from the walls and ceiling, and from the\\noil-painted benches.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 153\\nThere stood the church like a garden; the\\nFeast of the Leafy Pavilions*\\nSaw we in living presentment. From noble\\narms on the church wall\\nGrew forth a cluster of leaves, and the preach-\\ner s pulpit of oak-wood\\nBudded once more anew, as aforetime the rod\\nbefore Aaron.\\nWreathed thereon was the Bible with leaves,\\nand the dove, washed with silver,\\nUnder its canopy fastened, a necklace had on\\nof wind-flowers.\\nBut in front of the choir, round the altar-piece\\npainted by Horberg,f\\nCrept a garland gigantic; and bright -curling\\ntresses of angels\\nPeeped, like the sun from a cloud, out of the\\nshadowy leaf-work.\\nLikewise the lustre of brass, new-polished,\\nblinked from the ceiling.\\nAnd for lights there were lilies of Pentecost\\nset in the sockets.\\nLoud rang the bells already; the thronging\\ncrowd was assembled\\nThe Feast of the Tabernacles; in Swedish Loikyd-\\ndohogtiden, the Leaf-huts -high-tide.\\nf The peasant-painter of Sweden. He is known\\nchiefly by his altar-pieces in the village churches.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "154 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nFar from valleys and hills, to list to the holy\\npreaching.\\nHark then roll forth at once the mighty tones\\nfrom the organ,\\nHover like voices from God. aloft like invisible\\nspirits.\\nLike as Elias in heaven, when he cast off from\\nhim his mantle.\\nEven so cast off the soul its garments of earth\\nand with one voice\\nChimed in the congregation, and sang an an-\\nthem immortal\\nOf the sublime Wallin,* of David s harp in the\\nNorth-land\\nTuned to the choral of Luther the song on\\nits powerful pinions\\nTook every living soul, and lifted it gently to\\nheaven,\\nAnd every face did shine like the Holy One s\\nface upon Tabor.\\nLo! there entered then into the church the\\nReverend Teacher.\\nFather he hight and he was in the parish a\\nchristianly plainness\\nClothed from his head to his feet the old man\\nof seventy winters.\\nA distinguished pulpit-orator and poet. He is par-\\nticularly remarkable for the beauty and sublimity of his\\npsalms.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW SPOEMS. 155\\nFriendly was he to behold, and glad as the her-\\nalding angel\\nWalked he among the crowds, but still a con-*\\ntemplative grandeur\\nLay on his forehead as clear, as on a moss-\\ncovered grave-stone a sunbeam.\\nAs in his inspiration (an evening twilight that\\nfaintly\\nGleams in the human soul, even now, from the\\nday of creation)\\nTh Artist, the friend of heaven, imagines\\nSaint John when in Patmos\\nGray, with his eyes uplifted to heaven, so\\nseemed then the old man\\nSuch was the glance of his eye, and such were\\nhis tresses of silver.\\nAll the congregation arose in the pews that\\nwere numbered.\\nBut with a cordial look, to the right and the\\nleft hand, the old man\\nNodding all hail and peace, disappeared in the\\ninnermost chancel.\\nSimply and solemnly now proceeded the\\nChristian service,\\nSinging and prayer, and at last an ardent dis-\\ncourse from the old man.\\nMany a moving word and warning, that out\\nof the heart came", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "156 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nFell like the dew of the morning, like manna\\non those in the desert.\\nAfterwards, when all was finished, the Teacher\\nre-entered the chancel,\\nFollowed therein by the young. On the right\\nhand the boys had their places.\\nDelicate figures, with close-curling hair and\\nchekes rosy-blooming.\\nBut on the left-hand of these, there stood the\\ntremulous lilies,\\nTinofedwith the blushinof licrht of the morninof,\\nthe diffident maidens,\\nFolding their hands in prayer, and their eyes\\ncast down on the pavement.\\nNow came, with question and answer, the cate-\\nchism. In the beginning\\nAnswered the children with troubled and fal-\\ntering voice, but the old man s\\nGlances of kindness encouraged them soon,\\nand the doctrines eternal\\nFlowed like the waters of fountains, so clear\\nfrom lips unpolluted.\\nWhene er the answer was closed, and as oft as\\nthey named the Redeemer,\\nLowly louted the boys, and lowly the maidens\\nall courtesied.\\nFriendly the Teacher stood, like an angel of\\nlight there among them,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 157\\nAnd to the children explained he the holy, the\\nhighest, in few words.\\nThorough, yet simple and clear, for sublimity\\nalways is simple,\\nBoth in sermon and song a child can seize on\\nits meaning.\\nEven as the green-growing bud is unfolded\\nwhen Spring- tide approaches.\\nLeaf by leaf is developed, and, warmed by the\\nradiant sunshine,\\nBlushes with purple and gold, till at last the\\nperfected blossom\\nOpens its odorous chalice, and rocks with its\\ncrown in the breezes,\\nSo was unfolded here the Christian lore of sal-\\nvation,\\nLine by line from the soul of childhood. The\\nfathers and mothers\\nStood behind them in tears, and were glad at\\neach well-worded answer.\\nNow went the old man up to the altar, and\\nstraightway transfigured\\n(So did it seem unto me) was then the affec-\\ntionate Teacher.\\nLike the Lord s Prophet sublime, and awful as\\nDeath and as Judgment\\nStood he, the God-commissioned, the soul-\\nsearcher, earthward descending,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "158 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nGlances, sharp as a sword, into hearts, that to\\nhim were transparent\\nShot he; his voice was deep, was low like the\\nthunder afar off.\\nSo on a sudden transfigured he stood there, he\\nspake and he questioned.\\nThis is the faith of the Fathers, the faith\\nthe Apostles delivered,\\nThis is moreover the faith whereunto I bap-\\ntized you, while still ye\\nLay on your mothers breasts, and nearer the\\nportals of heaven.\\nSlumbering received you then the Holy Church\\nin its bosom\\nWakened from sleep are ye now, and the light\\nin its radiant splendor\\nRains from the heaven downward ;to-day on\\nthe threshold of childhood\\nKindly she frees you again, to examine and\\nmake your election.\\nFor she knows nought of compulsion, only\\nconviction desireth.\\nThis is the hour of your trial, the turning-point\\nof existence.\\nSeed for the coming days without revocation\\ndeparteth\\nNow from your lips the confession Bethink\\nye, before ye make answer", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 159\\nThink not* O think not with guile to deceive\\nthe questioning Teacher.\\nSharp is his eye to-day, and a curse ever rests\\nupon falsehood.\\nEnter not with a lie on Life s journey; the\\nmultitude hears you,\\nBrothers and sisters and parents, what dear\\nupon earth is and holy\\nStandeth before your sight as a witness the\\nJudge everlasting\\nLooks from the sun down upon you, and angels\\nin waiting beside him\\nGrave your confession in letters of fire, upon\\ntablets eternal.\\nThus then, believe ye in God, in the Father\\nwho this world created?\\nHim who redeemed it, the Son, and the Spirit\\nwhere both are united?\\nWill ye promise me here (a holy promise!), to\\ncherish\\nGod more than all things earthly, and every\\nman as a brother?\\nWill ye promise me here, to confirm your faith\\nby your living,\\nTh heavenly faith of affection! to hope, to for-\\ngive, and to suffer.\\nBe what it may your condition, and walk be-\\nfore God in uprightness?", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "160 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nWill ye promise me this before God and man?\\nWith a clear voice\\nAnswered the young men Yes and Yes with\\nlips softly breathing\\nAnswered the maidens eke. Then dissolved\\nfrom the brow of the Teacher\\nClouds with the thunders therein, and he spake\\non in accents more gentle,\\nSoft as the evening s breath, as harps by Baby-\\nlon s rivers.\\nHail, then, hail to you all! To the heir-\\ndom of heaven be ye welcome\\nChildren no more from this day, but by coven-\\nant brothers and sisters\\nYet, for what reason not children? Of such\\nis the kingdom of heaven.\\nHere upon earth an assemblage of children, in\\nheaven one father.\\nRuling them as his own household, forgiving\\nin turn and chastising,\\nThat is of human life a picture, as Scripture\\nhas taught us.\\nBlessed are the pure before God! Upon\\npurity and upon virtue\\nResteth the Christian Faith she herself from\\non high is descended.\\nStrong as a man and pure as a child, is the\\nsum of the doctrine,.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 161\\nWhich the Godlike delivered, and on the cross\\nsuffered and died for.\\nO! as ye wander this day from childhood s\\nsacred asylum\\nDownward and ever downward, and deeper in\\nAge s chill valley,\\nO! how soon will ye come, too soon! and\\nlong to turn backward\\nUp to its hill-tops again, to the sun-illumined,\\nwhere Judgment\\nStood like a father before you, and Pardon,\\nclad like a mother,\\nGave you her hand to kiss, and the loving heart\\nwas forgiven,\\nLife was a play and your hands grasped after\\nthe roses of heaven\\nSeventy years have I lived already the Father\\neternal\\nGave to me gladness and care but the love-\\nliest hours of existence,\\nWhen I have steadfastly gazed in their eyes, I\\nhave instantly known them,\\nKnown them all, all again;\u00e2\u0080\u0094 they were my\\nchildhood s acquaintance.\\nTherefore take from henceforth, as guides in\\nthe paths of existence.\\nPrayer, with her eyes raised to heaven, and\\nInnocence, bride of man s childhood.\\n11 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "162 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nInnocence, child beloved, is a guest from the\\nworld of the blessed,\\nBeautiful, and in her hand a lily on life s roar-\\ning billows\\nSwings she in safety, she heeded them not, in\\nthe ship she was sleeping.\\nCalmly she gazes around in the turmoil of\\nmen in the desert\\nAngels descend and minister unto her; she\\nherself knoweth\\nNaught of her glorious attendance but follows\\nfaithful and humble.\\nFollows so long as she may her friend I do\\nnot reject her.\\nFor she cometh from God, and she holdeth the\\nkeys of the heavers.\\nPrayer is Innocence friend; and willingly\\nflieth incessant\\nTwixt the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon\\nof heaven.\\nSon of Eternity, fettered in Time, and an ex-\\nile, the Spirit\\nTugs at his chains evermore, and struggles\\nlike flames ever upward.\\nStill he recalls with emotion his father s mani-\\nfold mansions,\\nThinks of the land of his fathers, where blos-\\nsomed more freshly the flowers,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 163\\nShone a more beautiful sun, and he played\\nwith the winged angels.\\nThen grows the earth too narrow, too close\\nand homesick for heaven\\nLongs the wanderer again; and the Spirit s\\nlongings are worship;\\nWorship is called his most beautiful hour, and\\nits tongue is entreaty.\\nAh when the infinite burden of life descend-\\neth upon us,\\nCrushes to earth our hope, and, under the\\nearth, in the grave-yard,\\nThen it is good to pray unto God for his sor-\\nrowing children\\nTurns he ne er from his door, but he heals and\\nhelps and consoles them.\\nYet it is better to pray when all things are\\nprosperous with us.\\nPray in fortunate days, for life s most beautiful\\nFortune\\nKneels down before the Eternal s throne; and,\\nwith hands interfolded.\\nPraises thankful and moved the only Giver of\\nblessings.\\nOr do ye know, ye children, one blessing that\\ncomes not from Heaven?\\nWhat has mankind forsooth, the poor that it\\nhas not received?", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "164 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTherefore, fall in the dust and pray! The\\nseraphs adoring\\nCover with pinions six their face in the glory\\nof him who\\nHung his masonry pendant on naught, when\\nthe world he created.\\nEarth declareth his might, and the firmament\\nuttereth his glory.\\nRaces blossom and die, and stars fall down-\\nward from heaven.\\nDownward like withered leaves; at the last\\nstroke of midnight, millenniums\\nLay themselves down at his feet, and he sees\\nthem, but counts them as nothing.\\nWho shall stand in his presence? The wrath\\nof the Judge is terrific.\\nCasting the insolent down at a glance. When\\nhe speaks in his anger\\nHillocks skip like the kid, and the mountains\\nleap like the roe-buck.\\nYet, why are ye afraid, ye children? This\\nawful avenger.\\nAh! is a merciful God God s voice was not\\nin the earthquake,\\nNot in the fire, nor the storm, but it was in the\\nwhispering breeezs.\\nLove is the root of creation; God s essence;\\nworlds without number", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 165\\nLie in his bosom like children; he made them\\nfor this purpose only.\\nOnly to love and to be loved again, he breathed\\nforth his spirit\\nInto the slumbering dust, and upright stand-\\ning, it laid its\\nHand on its heart, and felt it was warm with a\\nflame out of heaven.\\nQuench, O quench not that flame It is the\\nbreath of your being.\\nLove is life, but hatred is death. Not father\\nnor mother\\nLoved you, as God has loved you for it was\\nthat you may be happy\\nGave he his only son. When he bowed down\\nhis head in the death-hour\\nSolemnized Love its triumph; the sacrifice\\nthen was completed.\\nLo! then was rent on a sudden the veil of the\\ntemple, dividing\\nEarth and heaven apart, and the dead from\\ntheir sepulchers rising\\nWhispered with pallid lips and low in the ears\\nof each other\\nTh answer, but dreamed of before, to crea-\\ntion s enigma, Atonement!\\nDepths of Love are Atonement s depths, for\\nLove is Atonement.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "166 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTherefore, child of mortality, love thou the\\nmerciful Father;\\nWish what the Holy One wishes, and not from\\nfear, but affection\\nFear is the virtue of slaves but the heart that\\nloveth is willing\\nPerfect was before God, and perfect is Love,\\nand Love only.\\nLovest thou God as thou oughtest, then lovest\\nthou likewise thy brethren;\\nOne is the sun in Heaven, and one, only one\\nis Love also.\\nBears not each human figure the godlike stamp\\non his forehead?\\nReadest thou not in his face thine origin? Is\\nhe not sailing\\nLost like thyself on an ocean unknown, and is\\nhe not guided\\nBy the same stars that guide thee? Why\\nshouldst thou hate then thy brother?\\nHateth he thee, forgive! For tis sweet to\\nstammer one letter\\nOf the Eternal s language; on earth it is\\ncalled Forgiveness!\\nKnowest thou Him, who forgave, with the\\ncrown of thorns round his temples?\\nEarnestly prayed for his foes, for his mur-\\nderers? Say, dost thou know him?", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 167\\nAh thou confessest this name, so follow like-\\nwise his example,\\nThink of thy brother no ill, but throw a vail\\nover his failings,\\nGuide the erring aright; for the good, the\\nheavenly shepherd\\nTook the lost lamb in his arms, and bore it\\nback to its mother.\\nThis is the fruit of Love, and it is by its fruits\\nthat we know it.\\nLove is the creature s welfare, with God; but\\nLove among mortals\\nIs but an endless sigh He longs, and endures,\\nand stands waiting,\\nSuffers and yet rejoices, and smiles with tears\\non his eyelids.\\nHope, so is called upon earth, his recom-\\npense, Hope, the befriending,\\nDoes what she can, for she points evermore up\\nto heaven, and faithful\\nPlunges her anchor s peak in the depths of the\\ngrave, and beneath it\\nPaints a more beautiful world, a dim, but a\\nsweet play of shadows!\\nRaces, better than we, have leaned on her\\nwavering promise,\\nHaving naught else beside Hope. Then praise\\nwe our Father in Heaven,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "168 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nHim, who has given us more for to us has\\nHope been illumined,\\nGroping no longer in night she is Faith, she\\nis living assurance.\\nFaith is enlightened Hope she is light, is the\\neye of affection,\\nDreams of the longing interprets, and carves\\ntheir visions in marble.\\nFaith is the sun of life and her countenance\\nshines like the Prophet s,\\nFor she has looked upon God the heaven on\\nits stable foundation\\nDraws she with chains down to earth, and the\\nNew Jerusalem sinketh\\nSplendid with portals twelve in golden vapors\\ndescending.\\nThere enraptured she wanders, and looks at\\nthe figures majestic,\\nFears not the winged crowd, in the midst of\\nthem all is her homestead.\\nTherefore love and believe for works will fol-\\nlow spontaneous\\nEven as day does the sun; the Right from the\\nGood is an offspring,\\nLove in a bodily shape; and Christian works\\nare no more than\\nAnimate Love and faith, as flowers are the\\nanimate spring-tide.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "\u00e2\u0096\u00a0paVWZ\\nThen sleep we side by side. Page 195.\\nLongfellow s Poems.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 169\\nWorks do follow us all unto God there stand\\nand bear witness\\nNot what they seemed, but what they were\\nonly. Blessed is he who\\nHears their confession secure they are mute\\nupon earth until death s hand\\nOpens the mouth of the silent. Ye children,\\ndoes Death e er alarm you?\\nDeath is the brother of Love, twin-brother is\\nhe, and is only\\nMore austere to behold. With a kiss upon lips\\nthat are fading\\nTakes he the soul and departs, and rocked in\\nthe arms of affection.\\nPlaces the ransomed child, new born, fore the\\nface of its father.\\nSounds of his coming already I hear, see\\ndimly his pinions,\\nSwart as the night, but with stars strewn upon\\nthem I fear not before him.\\nDeath is only release, and in mercy is mute.\\nOn his bosom\\nFreer breathes, in its coolness, my breast and\\nface to face standing\\nLook I on God as he is, a sun unpolluted by\\nvapors\\nLook on the light of the ages I loved, the\\nspirits majestic,", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "170 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nNobler, better than I they stand by the throne\\nall transfigured,\\nVested in white, and with harps of gold, and\\nare singing an anthem,\\nWrit in the climate of heaven, in the language\\nspoken by angels.\\nYou, in like manner, ye children beloved, he\\none day shall gather,\\nNever forgets he the weary; then welcome,\\nye loved ones, hereafter!\\nMeanwhile forget not the keeping of vows, for-\\nget not the promise.\\nWander from holiness onward to holiness;\\nearth shall ye heed not;\\nEarth is but dust and heaven is light; I have\\npledged you to heaven.\\nGod of the Universe, hear me thou fountain\\nof Love everlasting.\\nHark to the voice of thy servant! I send up\\nmy prayer to thy heaven\\nLet me hereafter not miss at thy throne one\\nspirit of all these.\\nWhom thou hast given me here I have loved\\nthem all like a father.\\nMay they bear witness for me, that I taught\\nthem the way of salvation.\\nFaithful, so far as I knew of thy word again\\nmay they know me.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 171\\nFall on their Teacher s breast, and before thy\\nface may I place them,\\nPure as they now are, but only more tried, and\\nexclaiming with gladness.\\nFather, lo! I am here, and the children, whom\\nthou hast given me!\\nWeeping he spake in these words and now at\\nthe beck of the old man\\nKnee against knee they knitted a wreath round\\nthe altar s enclosure.\\nKneeling he read then the prayers of the con-\\nsecration, and softly\\nWith him the children read at the close, with\\ntremulous accents,\\nAsked he the peace of heaven, a benediction\\nupon them.\\nNow should have ended his task for the day;\\nthe following Sunday\\nWas for the young appointed to eat of the\\nLord s holy Supper.\\nSudden, as struck from the clouds, stood the\\nTeacher silent and laid his\\nHand on his forehead, and cast his looks up-\\nward while thoughts high and holy\\nFlew through the midst of his soul, and his\\neyes glanced with wonderful brightness.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "172 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\n**On the next Sunday, who knows! perhaps I\\nshall rest in the grave-yard\\nSome one perhaps of yourselves, a lily broken\\nuntimely,\\nBow down his head to the earth; why delay I?\\nthe hour is accomplished.\\nWarm is the heart: I will so! for to-day grows\\nthe harvest of heaven.\\nWhat I began accomplish I now; for what\\nfailing therein is\\nI, the old man, will answer to God and the\\nreverend father\\nSay to me only, ye children, ye denizens new-\\ncome in heaven,\\nAre ye ready this day to eat of the bread of\\nAtonement?\\nWhat it denote th, that know ye full well, I\\nhave told it you often.\\nOf the new covenant a symbol it is, of Atone-\\nment a token,\\nStablished between earth and heaven. Man\\nby his sins and transgressions\\nFar has wandered from God, from his essence.\\nTwas in the beginning\\nFast by the Tree of Knowledge he fell, and it\\nhangs its crown o er the\\nFall to this day in the Thought is the Fall in\\nthe Heart the Atonement.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 173\\nInfinite is the Fall, the Atonement infinite like-\\nwise.\\nSee behind me, as far as the old man remem-\\nbers, and forw ard,\\nFar as Hope in her flight can reach with her\\nwearied pinions,\\nSin and Atonement incessant go through the\\nlifetime of mortals.\\nBrought forth is sin full-grown but Atonement\\nsleeps in our bosoms\\nStill as the cradled babe and dreams of heaven\\nand of angels\\nCannot wake to sensation is like the tones in\\nthe harp s strings,\\nSpirits imprisoned, that wait evermore the\\ndeliverer s finger.\\nTherefore, ye children beloved, descended the\\nPrince of Atonement,\\nWoke the slumberer from sleep, and he stands\\nnow with eyes all resplendent.\\nBright as the vault of the sky, and battles\\nwith Sin and o ercomes her.\\nDownward to earth he came and transfigured\\nthence reascended,\\nNot from the heart in likewise, for there he\\nstill lives in the Spirit,\\nLoves and atones evermore. So long as Time\\nis, is Atonement.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "174 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTherefore with reverence receive this day her\\nvisible token.\\nTokens are dead if the things do not live. The\\nlight everlasting\\nUnto the blind man is not, but is born of the\\neye that has vision.\\nNeither in bread nor in wine, but in the heart\\nthat is hallowed\\nLieth forgiveness enshrined; the intention\\nalone of amendment.\\nFruits of the earth ennobles to heavenly\\nthings, and removes all\\nSin and the guerdon of sin. Only Love with\\nhis arms wide extended.\\nPenitence weeping and praying; the Will that\\nis tried, and whose gold flows\\nPurified forth from the flames; in a word,\\nmankind by Atonement\\nBreaketh Atonement s bread, and drinketh*\\nAtonement s wine cup.\\nBut he who cometh up hither, unworthy, with\\nhate in his bosom,\\nScoffing at men and at God, is guilty of\\nChrist s blessed body,\\nAnd the Redeemer s blood! To himself he\\neateth and drinketh\\nDeath and doom And from this, preserve us,\\nthou heavenly Father!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 175\\nAre ye ready, ye children, to eat of the bread\\nof Atonement?\\nThus with emotion he asked, and together an-\\nswered the children\\nYes! with deep sobs interrupted. Then read\\nhe the due supplications,\\nRead the Form of Communion, and in chimed\\nthe organ and anthem\\nO Holy Lamb of God, who takest away our\\ntransgressions,\\nHear us give us thy peace have mercy, have\\nmercy upon us\\nTh old man, with trembling hand, and heav-\\nenly pearls on his eyelids.\\nFilled now the chalice and paten, and dealt\\nround the mystical symbols.\\nO then seemed it to me, as if God with the\\nbroad eye of mid-day.\\nClearer looked in at the windows, and all the\\ntrees in the churchyard\\nBowed down their summits of green, and the\\ngrass on the graves gan to shiver.\\nBut in the children (I noted it well I knew it)\\nthere ran a\\nTremor of holy rapture along through their\\nicy-cold members.\\nDecked like an altar before them, there stood\\nthe green earth, and above it", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "176 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nHeaven opened itself, as of old before\\nStephen; there saw they\\nRadiant in glory the Father, and on his right\\nhand the Redeemer.\\nUnder them hear they the clang of harp-\\nstrings, and angels from gold clouds\\nBeckon to them like brothers, and fan with\\ntheir pinions of purple.\\nClosed, was the Teacher s task, and with\\nheaven in their hearts and their faces\\nUp rose the children all, and each bowed him,\\nweeping full sorely.\\nDownward to kiss that reverend hand, but all\\nof them pressed he\\nMoved to his bosom, and laid, with a prayer,\\nhis hands full of blessings,\\nNow on the holy breast, and now on the inno-\\ncent tresses.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS.\\n12 Longfellow 177", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "[The following poems, with one exception,\\nwere written at sea, in the latter part of Octo-\\nber. I had not then heard of Dr. Channing s\\ndeath. Since that event, the poem addressed\\nto him is no longer appropriate. I have de-\\ncided, however, to let it remain as it was writ-\\nten, a feeble testimony of my admiration for a\\ngreat and good man.\\n178", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH.\\nUnder a spreading chestnut tree\\nThe village smithy stands\\nThe smith, a mighty man is he,\\nWith large and sinewy hands\\nAnd the muscles of his brawny arms\\nAre strong as iron bands.\\nHis hair is crisp, and black, and long,\\nHis face is like the tan\\nHis brow is wet with honest sweat,\\nHe earns whate er he can,\\nAnd looks the whole world in the face,\\nFor he owes not any man.\\nWeek in, week out, from morn till night,\\nYou can hear his bellows blow\\nYou can hear him swing his heavy sledge,\\nWith measured beat and slow,\\nLike a sexton ringing the village bell.\\nWhen the evening sun is low.\\nAnd the children coming home from school\\nLook in at the open door;\\nThey love to see the flaming forge,\\n179", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "180 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nAnd hear the bellows roar,\\nAnd catch the burning sparks that fly\\nLike chaff from a threshing floor.\\nHe goes oii Sunday to the church,\\nAnd sits among his boys\\nHe hears the parson pray and preach,\\nHe hears his daughter s voice.\\nSinging in the village choir,\\nAnd it makes his heart rejoice.\\nIt sounds to him like her mother s voice,\\nSinging in Paradise\\nHe needs must think of her once more,\\nHow in the grave she lies;\\nAnd with his hard, rough hand he wipes\\nA tear out of his eyes.\\nToiling, rejoicing, sorrowing.\\nOnward through life he goes\\nEach morning sees some task begun.\\nEach evening sees it close;\\nSomething attempted, something done.\\nHas earned a night s repose.\\nThanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend.\\nFor the lesson thou hast taught\\nThus at the flaming forge of life", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 181\\nOur fortunes must be wrought\\nThus on its sounding anvil shaped\\nEach burning deed and thought", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "182 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nENDYMION.\\nThe rising moon has hid the stars;\\nHer level rays, like golden bars,\\nLie on the landscape green,\\nWith shadows brown between.\\nAnd silver white the river gleams,\\nAs if Diana, in her dreams,\\nHad dropt her silver bow\\nUpon the meadows low.\\nOn such a tranquil night as this,\\nShe woke Endymion with a kiss,\\nWhen, sleeping in the grove.\\nHe dreamed not of her love.\\nLike Diana s kiss; unasked, unsought,\\nLove gives itself, but is not bought\\nNor voice, nor sound betrays\\nIts deep, impassioned gaze.\\nIt comes, the beautiful, the free,\\nThe crown of all humanity,\\nIn silence and alone.\\nTo seek the elected one.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 183\\nIt lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep,\\nAre Life s oblivion, the soul s sleep.\\nAnd kisses the closed eyes\\nOf him, who slumbering lies.\\nO, weary hearts O, slumbering eyes\\nO, drooping souls, whose destinies\\nAre fraught with fear and pain,\\nYe shall be loved again\\nNo one is so accursed by fate,\\nNo one so utterly desolate,\\nBut some heart, though unknown.\\nResponds unto his own.\\nResponds, as if with unseen wings,\\nA breath from heaven had touched its strings;\\nAnd whispers, in its song,\\nWhere hast thou stayed so long?", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "184 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE TWO LOCKS OF HAIR.\\nFROM THE GERMAN OF PFIZER.\\nA youth, light-hearted and content,\\nI wander through the world;\\nHere, Arab-like, is pitched my tent\\nAnd straight again is furled.\\nYet oft I dream, that once a wife\\nClose in my heart was locked,\\nAnd in the sweet repose of life\\nA blessed child I rocked.\\nAwake! Away that dream, away!\\nToo long did it remain\\nSo long, that both by night and day\\nIt ever comes again.\\nThe end lies ever in my thought;\\nTo a grave so cold and deep\\nThe mother beautiful was brought\\nThen dropt the child asleep.\\nBut now the dream is wholly o er,\\nI bathe mine eyes and see;", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 185\\nAnd wander through the world once more,\\nA youth so light and free.\\nTwo locks, and they are wondrous fair,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nLeft me that vision mild\\nThe brown is from the mother s hair,\\nThe blond is from the child.\\nAnd when I see that lock of gold,\\nPale grows the evening-red\\nAnd when the dark lock I behold,\\nI wish that I were dead.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "ISB LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nIT IS NOT ALWAYS MAY.\\nNo hay pajaros en los nidos de antano. Spanish\\nProverb.\\nThe sun is bright, the air is clear;\\nThe darting swallows soar and sing,\\nAnd from the stately elms I hear\\nThe blue-bird prophesying Spring.\\nSo blue yon winding river flows.\\nIt seems an outlet from the sky,\\nWhere waiting till the west wind blows,\\nThe freighted clouds at anchor lie.\\nAll things are new; the buds, the leaves,\\nThat gild the elm-tree s nodding crest,\\nAnd even the nest beneath the eaves\\nThere are no birds in last year s nest!\\nAll things rejoice in youth and love,\\nThe fullness of their first delight\\nAnd learn from the soft heavens above\\nThe melting tenderness of night.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 187\\nMaiden, that read st this simple rhyme,\\nEnjoy thy youth, it will not stay\\nEnjoy the fragrance of thy prime.\\nFor O it is not always May\\nEnjoy the Spring of Love and Youth,\\nTo some good angel leave the rest;\\nFor Time will teach thee soon the truth,\\nThere are no birds in last year s nest!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "188 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE RAINY DAY.\\nThe day is cold, and dark, and dreary;\\nIt rains, and the wind is never weary;\\nThe vine still clings to the mouldering wall,\\nBut at every gust the dead leaves fall\\nAnd the day is dark and dreary.\\nMy life is cold, and dark, and dreary;\\nIt rains, and the wind is never weary\\nMy thoughts still cling to the mouldering\\nPast,\\nBut the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,\\nAnd the days are dark and dreary.\\nBe still, sad heart and cease repining\\nBehind the clouds is the sun still shining;\\nThy fate is the common fate of all,\\nInto each life some rain must fall,\\nSome days must be dark and drear}^", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 189\\nGOD S-ACRE.\\nI like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls\\nThe burial-ground God s- Acre! It is just;\\nIn consecrates each grave within its walls,\\nAnd breathes a benison o er the sleeping dust.\\nGod s- Acre! Yes, that blessed name imparts\\nComfort to those, who in the grave have sown\\nThe seed, that they had garnered in their\\nhearts.\\nTheir bread of life, alas no more their own.\\nInto its furrows shall we all be cast.\\nIn the sure faith, that we shall rise again\\nAt the great harvest, when the archangel s\\nblast\\nShall winnow, like a fan, the chaff and grain.\\nThen shall the good stand in immortal bloom,\\nIn the fair gardens of that second birth\\nAnd each bright blossom, mingle its perfume\\nWith that of flowers, which never bloomed\\non earth.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "190\\nLONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nWith thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up\\nthe sod,\\nAnd spread the furrow for the seed we sow;\\nThis is the field and Acre of our God.\\nThis is the place, where human harvests\\ngrow!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 191\\nTO THE RIVER CHARLES.\\nRiver that in silence windest\\nThrough the meadows, bright and free,\\nTill at length thy rest thou findest\\nIn the bosom of the sea\\nFour long years of mingled feeling,\\nHalf in rest, and half in strife,\\nI have seen thy waters stealing\\nOnward, like the stream of life.\\nThou hast taught me, Silent River!\\nMany a lesson, deep and long\\nThou hast been a generous giver;\\nI can give thee but a song.\\nOft in sadness and in illness,\\nI have watched thy current glide,\\nTill the beauty of its stillness\\nOverflowed me, like a tide.\\nAnd in better hours and brighter,\\nWhen I saw thy waters gleam,\\nI have felt my heart beat lighter,\\nAnd leap onward with thy stream.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "192 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nNot for this alone I love thee,\\nNor because, thy waves of blue\\nFrom celestial seas above thee\\nTake their own celestial hue.\\nWhere yon shadowy woodlands hide thee,\\nAnd thy waters disappear.\\nFriends I love have dwelt beside thee,\\nAnd have made thy margin dear.\\nMore than this; thy name reminds me\\nOf three friends, all true and tried\\nAnd that name, like magic, binds me\\nCloser, closer to thy side.\\nFriends my soul with joy remembers!\\nHow like quivering flames they start,\\nWhen I fan the living embers\\nOn the hearth-stone of my heart!\\nTis for this, thou Silent River!\\nThat my spirit leans to thee\\nThou hast been a generous giver.\\nTake this idle song from me.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 193\\nTHE GOBLET OF LIFE.\\nFilled is Life s goblet to the brim\\nAnd though my eyes with tears are dim\\nI see its sparkling bubbles swim,\\nAnd chant a melancholy hymn\\nWith solemn voice and slow.\\nNo purple flowers, no garlands green,\\nConceal the goblet s shade or sheen.\\nNor maddening draughts of Hippocrene,\\nLike gleams of sunshine, flash between\\nThick leaves of mistletoe.\\nThis goblet, wrought with curious art,\\nIs filled with waters, that upstart.\\nWhen the deep fountains of the heart,\\nBy strong convulsions rent apart.\\nAre running all to waste.\\nAnd as it mantling passes round,\\nWith fennel is it wreathed and crowned,\\nWhose seed and foliage sun-imbrowned\\nAre in its waters steeped and drowned,\\nAnd give a bitter taste.\\n13 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "194 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nAbove the lowly plants it towers,\\nThe fennel, with its yellow flowers,\\nAnd in an earlier age than ours\\nWas gifted with the wondrous powers,\\nLost vision to restore.\\nIt gave new strength, and fearless mood\\nAnd gladiators, fierce and rude.\\nMingled it in their daily food\\nAnd he who battled and subdued,\\nA wreath of fennel wore.\\nThen in Life s goblet freely press,\\nThe leaves that give it bitterness,\\nNor prize the colored waters less,\\nFor in thy darkness and distress\\nNew light and strength they give\\nAnd he who has not learned to know\\nHow false its sparkling bubbles show,\\nHow bitter are the drops of woe.\\nWith which its brim may overflow.\\nHe has not learned to live.\\nThe prayer of Ajax was for light;\\nThrough all that dark and desperate fight,\\nThe blackness of that noonday night,\\nHe asked but the return of sight.\\nTo see his foeman s face.\\n18", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 195\\nLet our unceasing, earnest prayer\\nBe, too, for light, for strength to bear\\nOur portion of the weight of care.\\nThat crushes into dumb despair\\nOne half the human race.\\nO suffering, sad humanity!\\nye afflicted ones, who lie\\nSteeped to the lips of misery.\\nLonging, and yet afraid to die.\\nPatient, though sorely tried!\\n1 pledge you in this cup of grief.\\nWhere floats the fennel s bitter leaf!\\nThe Battle of our Life is brief,\\nThe alarm, the struggle, the relief,\\nThen sleep we side by side.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "196 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nMAIDENHOOD.\\nMaiden with the meek, brown eyes,\\nIn whose orbs a shadow lies\\nLike the dusk in evening skies\\nThou whose locks outshine the sun,\\nGolden tresses, wreathed in one,\\nAs the braided streamlets run\\nStanding, with reluctant feet.\\nWhere the brook and river meet,\\nWomanhood and childhood fleet!\\nGazing, with a timid glance,\\nOn the brooklet s swift advance.\\nOn the river s broad expanse!\\nDeep and still, that gliding strean?.\\nBeautiful to thee must seem.\\nAs the river of a dream.\\nThen why pause with indecision,\\nWhen bright angels in thy vision\\nBeckon thee to fields Elysian?", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 197\\nSeest thou shadows sailing by,\\nAs the dove, with startled eye,\\nSeest the falcon s shadow fly?\\nHearest thou voices on the shore,\\nThat our ears perceive no more,\\nDeafened by the cataract s roar?\\nO, thou child of many prayers\\nLife hath quicksands, Life hath snares!\\nCare and age come unawares!\\nLike the swell of some sweet tune\\nMorning rises into noon.\\nMay glides onward into June.\\nChildhood is the bough, where slumbered\\nBirds and blossom many-numbered\\nAge, that bough with snows encumbered.\\nGather, then, each flower that grows\\nWhen the young heart overflows.\\nTo embalm that tent of snow\\nBear a lily in thy hand\\nGates of brass cannot withstand\\nOne touch of that magic wand.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "198 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nBear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth,\\nIn thy heart the dew of youth,\\nOn thy lips the smile of truth,\\nO, that dew, like balm, shall steal\\nInto wounds, that cannot heal.\\nEven as sleep our eyes doth seal\\nAnd that smile, like sunshine, dart\\nInto many a sunless heart,\\nFor a smile of God thou art.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 199\\nEXCFLSIOR.\\nThe shades of night were falling fast,\\nAs through an Alpine village passed\\nA youth, who bore, mid snow and ice,\\nA banner with the strange device\\nExcelsior\\nHis brow was sad; his eye beneath,\\nFlashed like a falchion from its sheath,\\nAnd like a silver clarion rung\\nThe accents of that unknown tongue,\\nExcelsior\\nIn happy homes he saw the light\\nOf household fires gleam warm and bright\\nAbove, the spectral glaciers shone,\\nAnd from his lips escaped a groan.\\nExcelsior\\nTry not the Pass! the old man said;\\n**Dark lowers the tempest overhead,\\nThe roaring torrent is deep and wide!\\nAnd loud that clarion voice replied\\nExcelsior", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "200 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\n**0 stay, the maiden said, and rest\\nThy weary head upon this breast!\\nA tear stood in his bright blue eye,\\nBut still he answered, with a sigh,\\nExcelsior\\nBeware the pine-tree s withered branch!\\nBeware the awful avalanche\\nThis was the peasant s last Good-night,\\nA voice replied, far up the height,\\nExcelsior 1\\nAt break of day, as heavenward\\nThe pious monks of Saint Bernard\\nUttered the oft-repeated prayer,\\nA voice cried through the startled air\\nExcelsior\\nA traveler, by the faithful hound,\\nHalf -buried in the snow was found,\\nStill grasping in his hand of ice\\nThat banner with the strange device\\nExcelsior\\nThere in the twilight cold and gray.\\nLifeless, but beautiful, he lay,\\nAnd from the sky, serene and far,\\nA voice fell, like a falling star.\\nExcelsior", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 201\\nBLIND BARTIMEUS.\\nBlind Bartimeus at the gates\\nOf Jericho in darkness waits;\\nHe hears the crowd; he hears a breath\\nSay, **It is Christ of Nazareth!\\nAnd calls, in tones of agony,\\nIrjffoVf iXirjaSv fix\\nThe thronging multitudes increase;\\nBlind Bartimeus, hold thy peace\\nBut still, above the noisy crowd.\\nThe beggar s cry is shrill and loud;\\nUntil they say, **He calleth thee!\\nQdpaei, iyeipau., 0w^et re/\\nThen saith the Christ, as silent stands\\nThe crowd, What wilt thou at my hands?\\nAnd he replies, O give me light\\nRabbi, restore the blind man s sight.\\nAnd Jesus answers, t vaye\\n*H irlffTts ffov r4ffUKi ce\\nYe that have eyes, yet cannot see,\\nIn darkness and in misery", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "202 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nRecall those mighty Voices Three,\\nIrjcroO, Hyirjadv fxe\\nGapcet, eyeipai, inraye\\nH vlffTis 7ov (T^ x(j}Ki ai", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "POEMS ON SLAVERY.\\n203", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0218.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "POEMS ON SLAVERY.\\nThe noble horse,\\nThat, in his fiery youth, from his wide nostrils\\nNeighed courage to his rider, and brake through\\nGroves of opposed pikes, bearing his lord\\nSafe to triumphant victory, old or wounded,\\nWas set at liberty and freed from service.\\nThe Athenian mules, that from the quarry drew\\nMarble, hewed for the Temple of the Gods,\\nThe great work ended, were dismissed and fed\\nAt the public cost nay, faithful dogs have found\\nTheir sepulchres but man, to man more cruel.\\nAppoints no end to the sufferings of his slave.\\nMassinger.\\nTO WILLIAM E. CHANNING.\\nThe pages of thy book I read,\\nAnd as I closed each one,\\nMy heart, responding, ever said,\\nServant of God! well done!\\nWell done Thy words are great and bold\\nAt times they seem to me.\\nLike Luther s, in the days of old,\\nHalf -battles for the free.\\n205", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0219.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "206 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nGo on, until this land revokes\\nThe old and chartered Lie,\\nThe feudal curse, whose whips and yokes\\nInsult humanity.\\nA voice is ever at thy side\\nSpeaking in tones of might,\\nLike the prophetic voice, that cried\\nTo John in Patmos, Write!\\nWrite and tell out this bloody tale,\\nRecord this dire eclipse,\\nThis Day of Wrath, this Endless Wail,\\nThis dread Apocalypse", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0220.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 207\\nTHE SLAVE S DREAM.\\nBeside the ungathered rice he lay,\\nHis sickle in his hand\\nHis breast was bare, his matted hair\\nWas buried in the sand.\\nAgain, in the mist and shadow of sleep.\\nHe saw his Native Land.\\nWide through the landscape of his dreams\\nThe lordly Niger flowed;\\nBeneath the palm-trees on the plain\\nOnce more a king he strode;\\nAnd heard the tinkling caravans\\nDescend the mountain-road.\\nHe saw once more his dark-eyed queen\\nAmong her children stand\\nThey clasped his neck, they kissed his\\ncheeks.\\nThey held him by the hand!\\nA tear burst from the sleeper s lids\\nAnd fell into the sand.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0221.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "208 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nAnd then at furious speed he rode\\nAlong the Niger s bank;\\nHis bridle-reins were golden chains,\\nAnd, with a martial clank,\\nAt each leap he could feel his scabbard of\\nsteel\\nSmiting his stallion s flank\\nBefore him, like a blood-red flag,\\nThe bright flamingoes flew\\nFrom morn till night he followed their\\nflight.\\nO er plains where the tamarind grew,\\nTill he saw the roofs of Caff re huts,\\nAnd the ocean rose to view.\\nAt night he heard the lion roar,\\nAnd the hyaena scream,\\nAnd the river-horse, as he crushed the\\nreeds\\nBeside some hidden stream\\nAnd it passed, like a glorious roll of drums,\\nThrough the triumph of his dreams.\\nThe forests, with their myriad tongues.\\nShouted of liberty\\nAnd the Blast of the Desert cried aloud,\\nWith a voice so wild and free.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0222.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 209\\nThat he started in his sleep and smiled\\nAt their tempestuous glee.\\nHe did not feel the driver s whip,\\nNor the burning heat of day\\nFor Death had illumined the Land of Sleep*\\nAnd his lifeless body lay\\nA worn-out fetter, that the soul\\nHad broken and thrown away\\n14 Longfellow", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0223.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "210 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE GOOD PART,\\nTHAT SHALL NOT BE TAKEN AWAY.\\nShe dwells by Great Kennawa s side,\\nIn valleys green and cool\\nAnd all her hope and all her pride\\nAre in the village school.\\nHer sotil, like the transparent air\\nThat robes the hills above,\\nThough not of earth, encircles there\\nAll things with arms of love.\\nAnd thus she walks among her girls\\nWith praise and mild rebukes!\\nSubduing e en rude village churls\\nBy her angelic looks.\\nShe reads to them at eventide\\nOf One who came to save\\nTo cast the captive s chains aside,\\nAnd liberate the slave.\\nAnd oft the blessed time foretells\\nWhen all men shall be free;", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0224.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 211\\nAnd musical, as silver bells,\\nTheir falling chains shall be.\\nAnd following her beloved Lord\\nIn decent poverty.\\nShe makes her life one swee^ record\\nAnd deed of charity.\\nFor she was rich and gave up all,\\nTo break the iron bands\\nOf those who waited in her hall,\\nAnd labored in her lands.\\nLong since beyond the Southern Sea\\nTheir outbound sails have sped.\\nWhile she, in meek humility,\\nNow earns her daily bread.\\nIt is their prayers, which never cease\\nThat clothe her with such grace\\nTheir blessing is the light of peace\\nThat shines upon her face.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0225.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "212 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE SLAVE IN THE DISMAL SWAMP.\\nIn dark fens of the Dismal Swamp\\nThe hunted Negro lay;\\nHe saw the fire of the midnight camp,\\nAnd heard at times a horse s tramp\\nAnd a bloodhound s distant bay.\\nWhere will-o -the-wisps and glowworms\\nshine,\\nIn bulrush and in brake\\nWhere waving mosses shroud the pine.\\nAnd the cedar grows, and the poisonous\\nvine\\nIs spotted like the snake\\nWhere hardly a human foot could pass,\\nOr a human heart would dare,\\nOn the quaking turf of the green morass\\nHe crouched in the rank and tangled grass\\nLike a wild beast in his lair.\\nA poor old slave, infirm and lame\\nGreat scars deformed his face", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0226.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 213\\nOn his forehead he bore the brand of\\nshame,\\nAnd the rags, that hid his mangled frame,\\nWere the livery of disgrace.\\nAll things above were bright and fair,\\nAll things were glad and free\\nLithe squirrels darted here and there,\\nAnd wild birds filled the echoing air\\nWith songs of Liberty!\\nOn him alone was the doom of pain.\\nFrom the morning of his birth;\\nOn him alone the curse of Cain\\nFell, like a flail on the garnered grain.\\nAnd struck him to the earth", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0227.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "214 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE SLAVE SINGING AT MIDNIGHT.\\nLoud he sang the psalm of David!\\nHe, a Negro and enslaved,\\nSang of Israel s victory,\\nSang of Zion, bright and free.\\nIn that hour, when night is calmest,\\nSang he from the Hebrew Psalmist,\\nIn a voice so sweet and clear\\nThat I could not choose but hear.\\nSongs of triumph, and ascriptions,\\nSuch as reached the swart Egyptians,\\nWhen upon the Red Sea coast\\nPerished Pharaoh and his host.\\nAnd the voice of his devotion\\nFilled my soul with strange emotion\\nFor its tones by turns were glad,\\nSweetly solemn, wildly sad.\\nPaul and Silas, in their prison,\\nSang of Christ, the Lord arisen.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0228.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 215\\nAnd an earthquake s arm of might\\nBroke their dungeon-gates at night.\\nBut, alas! what holy angel\\nBrings the Slave this glad evangel?\\nAnd what earthquake s arm of might\\nBreaks his dungeon-gates at night?", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0229.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "216 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE WITNESSES.\\nIn Ocean s wide domains\\nHalf-buried in the sands,\\nLie skeletons in chains,\\nWith shackled feet and hands.\\nBeyond the fall of dews,\\nDeeper than plummet lies,\\nFloat ships, with all their crews,\\nNo more to sink or rise.\\nThere the black Slave-ship swims,\\nFreighted with human forms.\\nWhose fettered, fleshless limbs,\\nAre not the sport of storms.\\nThese are the bones of Slaves;\\nThey gleam from the abyss;\\nThey cry, from yawning waves,\\nWe are the Witnesses!\\nWithin Earth s wide domains\\nAre markets for men s lives;", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0230.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 217\\nTheir necks are galled with chains,\\nTheir wrists are cramped with gyves.\\nDead bodies, that the kite\\nIn deserts makes its prey\\nMurders, that with affright\\nScare schoolboys from their play!\\nAll evil thoughts and deeds;\\nAnger, and lust, and pride\\nThe foulest, rankest weeds,\\nThat choke Life s groaning tide!\\nThese are the woes of Slaves\\nThey glare from the abyss;\\nThey cry, from unknown graves,\\nWe are the Witnesses!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0231.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "218 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nTHE QUADROON GIRL.\\nThe Slaver in the broad lagoon\\nLay moored with idle sail\\nHe waited for the rising moon,\\nAnd for the evening gale.\\nUnder the shore his boat was tied,\\nAnd all her listless crew\\nWatched the gray alligator slide\\nInto the still bayou.\\nOdors of orange-flowers, and spice,\\nReached them from time to time,\\nLike airs that breathe from Paradise\\nUpon a world of crime.\\nThe Planter, under his roof of thatch,\\nSmoked thoughtfully and slow\\nThe Slaver s thumb was on the latch,\\nHe seemed in haste to go.\\nHe said, My ship at anchor rides\\nIn yonder broad lagoon\\nI only wait the evening tides.\\nAnd the rising of the moon.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0232.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 219\\nBefore them, with her face upraised,\\nIn timid attitude,\\nLike one half curious, half amazed,\\nA Quadroon maiden stood.\\nHer eyes were, like a falcon s, gray.\\nHer arms and neck were bare\\nNo garment she wore save a kirtle gay,\\nAnd her own long, raven hair.\\nAnd on her lips there played a smile\\nAs holy, meek, and faint,\\nAs light in some cathedral aisle\\nThe features of a saint.\\n**The soil is barren, the farm is old;**\\nThe thoughtful Planter said\\nThen looked upon the Slaver s gold.\\nAnd then upon the maid.\\nHis heart within him was at strife\\nWith such accursed gains;\\nFor he knew whose passions gave her life,\\nWhose blood ran in her veins.\\nBut the voice of nature was too weak\\nHe took the glittering gold", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0233.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "220 LONGFELLOW S POEMS.\\nThen pale as death grew the maiden s\\ncheek,\\nHer hands as icy cold.\\nThe Slaver led her from the door,\\nHeld her by the hand,\\nTo be his slave and paramour\\nIn a strange and distant land!", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0234.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "LONGFELLOW S POEMS. 221\\nTHE WARNING.\\nBeware The Israelite of old, who tore\\nThe lion in his path, when poor, and blind,\\nHe saw the blessed light of heaven no more.\\nShorn of his noble strength and forced to\\ngrind\\nIn prison, and at last led forth to be\\nA pander to Philistine revelr}\\nUpon the pillars of the temple laid\\nHis desperate hands, and in its overthrow\\nDestroyed himself, and with him those who\\nmade\\nA cruel mockery of his sightless woe\\nThe poor, blind Slave, the scoff and jest of all,\\nExpired, and thousands perished in the fall\\nThere is a poor, blind Samson in this land.\\nShorn of his strength, and bound in bonds of\\nsteel.\\nWho may, in some grim revel, raise his hand,\\nAnd shake the pillars of this Commonweal,\\nTill the vast Temple of our liberties\\nA shapeless mass of wreck and rubbish lies.", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0235.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0236.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0237.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0238.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0239.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process.\\nNeutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide\\nTreatment Date: Sept. 2009\\nPreservationTechnologies\\nA WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION\\n111 Thomson Park Drive\\nCranberry Township, PA 16066\\n(724)779-2111", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0240.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0241.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS\\n015 971 400 7", "height": "2916", "width": "1816", "jp2-path": "poems03long_0242.jp2"}}