The children's Longfellow, illustrated . golden corn; Not alone in Springs armorial in Summers green-emblazoned field. But in arms of brave old Autumns wearing,In the centre of his brazen shield ; Not alone in meadows and green the mountain-top, and by the brink Of sequestered pools in woodland the slaves of nature stoop to drink;8 FLOWERS Not alone in her vast dome of glory,Not on graves of bird and beast alone, But in old cathedrals, high and the tombs of heroes, carved in stone; In the cottage of the rudest peasant. In ancestral homes, whose crum
The children's Longfellow, illustrated . golden corn; Not alone in Springs armorial in Summers green-emblazoned field. But in arms of brave old Autumns wearing,In the centre of his brazen shield ; Not alone in meadows and green the mountain-top, and by the brink Of sequestered pools in woodland the slaves of nature stoop to drink;8 FLOWERS Not alone in her vast dome of glory,Not on graves of bird and beast alone, But in old cathedrals, high and the tombs of heroes, carved in stone; In the cottage of the rudest peasant. In ancestral homes, whose crumbling towers. Speaking of the Past unto the Present,Tell us of the ancient Games of Flowers; In all places, then, and in all seasons, Flowers expand their light and soul-like wings,Teaching us, by most persuasive reasons, How akin they are to human things. And with childlike, credulous behold their tender buds expand; Emblems of our own great of the bright and better land. ^^ V- BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. When the warm sun, that bringsSeed-time and harvest, has returned again,T is sweet to ^isit the still wood, where springs The first flower of the plain. I \o\e the season well,When forest glades are teeming a\ ith bright forms,Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell The coming-on of storms. From the earths loosened mouldThe sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives;Though stricken to the heart with Avinters cold, The drooping tree revives. The softly-^^?arbled songComes from the pleasant ^^?oods, and colored wingsGlance quick in the bright sun, that moves along The forest AN APRIL DAY When the bright sunset fillsThe silver woods with light, the green slope thro\\sIts shadows in the hollows of the hills, And wide the upland glows. And when the eve is born,In the blue lake the sky, oer-reaching hollowed out, and the moon dips her horn, And twinkles many a star. Inverted in the tideStand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows thr
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Keywords: ., bookauthorlongfellowhenrywadswo, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900
