The Children of the Poems; An Anthology from English and American Writers of Three Centuries (Paperback)
5 Angebote vergleichen

Lieferung aus: Deutschland, Versandkostenfrei.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, The Book Depository [54837791], Gloucester, UK, United Kingdom.
Brand New Book ***** Print on Demand *****.This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 18 Excerpt: .of wood, On the door stone, grey and rude! O er me, like a regal tent, Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent, Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, Looped in many a wide-swung fold; While for music came the play Of the pied frogs orchestra; And, to light the noisy choir, Lit the fly his lamp of fire. I was monarch: pomp and joy Waited on the barefoot boy I Cheerily, then, my little man, Live and laugh, as boyhood can! Though the flinty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, Every morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew; Every evening from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat, All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride, Lose the freedom of the sod, Like a colt s for work be shod, Made to tread the mills of toil, Up and down in ceaseless moil; Happy if their track be found Never on forbidden ground; Happy if they sink not in Quick and treacherous sands of sin. Ah 1 that thou couldst know thy joy, Ere it passes, barefoot boy! John Greenkaf iVhitticr. VESTA. O Christ of God! whose life and death Our own have reconciled, Most quietly, most tenderly Take home thy star-named child! Thy grace is in her patient eyes, Thy words are on her tongue; The very silence round her seems As if the angels sung. Her smile is as a listening child s Who hears its mother call; The lilies of Thy perfect peace About her pillow fall. She leans from out our clinging arms To rest herself in Thine; Alone to Thee, dear Lord, can we Our well-beloved resign! O, less for her than for ourselves We bow our heads and pray; Her setting star, like Bethlehem s, To Thee shall point the way I John Greenleaf Whittier. IN SCHOOL-DAYS. Still sits the school-house by the road, A ragged beggar sunning; Around it still the sumachs grow, And blackberry vines .

Von Händler/Antiquariat, BuySomeBooks [52360437], Las Vegas, NV, U.S.A.
This item is printed on demand. Paperback. This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 18 Excerpt: . . . of wood, On the door stone, grey and rude! Oer me, like a regal tent, Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent, Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, Looped in many a wide-swung fold; While for music came the play Of the pied frogs orchestra; And, to light the noisy choir, Lit the fly his lamp of fire. I was monarch: pomp and joy Waited on the barefoot boy I Cheerily, then, my little man, Live and laugh, as boyhood can! Though the flinty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, Every morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew; Every evening from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat, All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride, Lose the freedom of the sod, Like a colts for work be shod, Made to tread the mills of toil, Up and down in ceaseless moil; Happy if their track be found Never on forbidden ground; Happy if they sink not in Quick and treacherous sands of sin. Ah 1 that thou couldst know thy joy, Ere it passes, barefoot boy! John Greenkaf iVhitticr. VESTA. O Christ of God! whose life and death Our own have reconciled, Most quietly, most tenderly Take home thy star-named child! Thy grace is in her patient eyes, Thy words are on her tongue; The very silence round her seems As if the angels sung. Her smile is as a listening childs Who hears its mother call; The lilies of Thy perfect peace About her pillow fall. She leans from out our clinging arms To rest herself in Thine; Alone to Thee, dear Lord, can we Our well-beloved resign! O, less for her than for ourselves We bow our heads and pray; Her setting star, like Bethlehems, To Thee shall point the way I John Greenleaf Whittier. IN SCHOOL-DAYS. Still sits the school-house by the road, A ragged beggar sunning; Around it still the sumachs grow, And blackberry vines . . . This item ships from La Vergne,TN.

Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, Usually ships in 24 hours.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, Amazon.com.
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 18?? Excerpt: ...of wood, On the door stone, grey and rude! O'er me, like a regal tent, Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent, Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, Looped in many a wide-swung fold; While for music came the play Of the pied frogs' orchestra; And, to light the noisy choir, Lit the fly his lamp of fire. I was monarch: pomp and joy Waited on the barefoot boy I Cheerily, then, my little man, Live and laugh, as boyhood can! Though the flinty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, Every morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew; Every evening from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat, All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride, Lose the freedom of the sod, Like a colt's for work be shod, Made to tread the mills of toil, Up and down in ceaseless moil; Happy if their track be found Never on forbidden ground; Happy if they sink not in Quick and treacherous sands of sin. Ah 1 that thou couldst know thy joy, Ere it passes, barefoot boy! John Greenkaf iVhitticr. VESTA. O Christ of God! whose life and death Our own have reconciled, Most quietly, most tenderly Take home thy star-named child! Thy grace is in her patient eyes, Thy words are on her tongue; The very silence round her seems As if the angels sung. Her smile is as a listening child's Who hears its mother call; The lilies of Thy perfect peace About her pillow fall. She leans from out our clinging arms To rest herself in Thine; Alone to Thee, dear Lord, can we Our well-beloved resign! O, less for her than for ourselves We bow our heads and pray; Her setting star, like Bethlehem's, To Thee shall point the way I John Greenleaf Whittier. IN SCHOOL-DAYS. Still sits the school-house by the road, A ragged beggar sunning; Around it still the sumachs grow, And blackberry vines ... Paperback, Label: RareBooksClub.com, RareBooksClub.com, Produktgruppe: Book, Publiziert: 2012-05-08, Studio: RareBooksClub.com.

Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, Usually ships in 1-2 business days.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, super_star_seller.
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 18?? Excerpt: ...of wood, On the door stone, grey and rude! O'er me, like a regal tent, Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent, Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, Looped in many a wide-swung fold; While for music came the play Of the pied frogs' orchestra; And, to light the noisy choir, Lit the fly his lamp of fire. I was monarch: pomp and joy Waited on the barefoot boy I Cheerily, then, my little man, Live and laugh, as boyhood can! Though the flinty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, Every morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew; Every evening from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat, All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride, Lose the freedom of the sod, Like a colt's for work be shod, Made to tread the mills of toil, Up and down in ceaseless moil; Happy if their track be found Never on forbidden ground; Happy if they sink not in Quick and treacherous sands of sin. Ah 1 that thou couldst know thy joy, Ere it passes, barefoot boy! John Greenkaf iVhitticr. VESTA. O Christ of God! whose life and death Our own have reconciled, Most quietly, most tenderly Take home thy star-named child! Thy grace is in her patient eyes, Thy words are on her tongue; The very silence round her seems As if the angels sung. Her smile is as a listening child's Who hears its mother call; The lilies of Thy perfect peace About her pillow fall. She leans from out our clinging arms To rest herself in Thine; Alone to Thee, dear Lord, can we Our well-beloved resign! O, less for her than for ourselves We bow our heads and pray; Her setting star, like Bethlehem's, To Thee shall point the way I John Greenleaf Whittier. IN SCHOOL-DAYS. Still sits the school-house by the road, A ragged beggar sunning; Around it still the sumachs grow, And blackberry vines ... Paperback, Label: RareBooksClub.com, RareBooksClub.com, Produktgruppe: Book, Publiziert: 2012-05-08, Studio: RareBooksClub.com.

Lieferung aus: Vereinigte Staaten von Amerika, Usually ships in 1-2 business days.
Von Händler/Antiquariat, profnath.
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 18?? Excerpt: ...of wood, On the door stone, grey and rude! O'er me, like a regal tent, Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent, Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, Looped in many a wide-swung fold; While for music came the play Of the pied frogs' orchestra; And, to light the noisy choir, Lit the fly his lamp of fire. I was monarch: pomp and joy Waited on the barefoot boy I Cheerily, then, my little man, Live and laugh, as boyhood can! Though the flinty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, Every morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew; Every evening from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat, All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride, Lose the freedom of the sod, Like a colt's for work be shod, Made to tread the mills of toil, Up and down in ceaseless moil; Happy if their track be found Never on forbidden ground; Happy if they sink not in Quick and treacherous sands of sin. Ah 1 that thou couldst know thy joy, Ere it passes, barefoot boy! John Greenkaf iVhitticr. VESTA. O Christ of God! whose life and death Our own have reconciled, Most quietly, most tenderly Take home thy star-named child! Thy grace is in her patient eyes, Thy words are on her tongue; The very silence round her seems As if the angels sung. Her smile is as a listening child's Who hears its mother call; The lilies of Thy perfect peace About her pillow fall. She leans from out our clinging arms To rest herself in Thine; Alone to Thee, dear Lord, can we Our well-beloved resign! O, less for her than for ourselves We bow our heads and pray; Her setting star, like Bethlehem's, To Thee shall point the way I John Greenleaf Whittier. IN SCHOOL-DAYS. Still sits the school-house by the road, A ragged beggar sunning; Around it still the sumachs grow, And blackberry vines ... Paperback, Label: RareBooksClub.com, RareBooksClub.com, Produktgruppe: Book, Publiziert: 2012-05-08, Studio: RareBooksClub.com.