The Belfry of Bruges and Other Poems |
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Page 25
... ! And every nation , that should lift again Its hand against a brother , on its forehead Would wear forevermore the curse of Cain ! E Down the dark future , through long generations , The THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD . 25.
... ! And every nation , that should lift again Its hand against a brother , on its forehead Would wear forevermore the curse of Cain ! E Down the dark future , through long generations , The THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD . 25.
Page 28
... hand through every clime . In the court - yard of the castle , bound with many an iron band , Stands the mighty linden planted by Queen Cunigunde's hand ; On the square the oriel window , where in old heroic days Sat the poet Melchior ...
... hand through every clime . In the court - yard of the castle , bound with many an iron band , Stands the mighty linden planted by Queen Cunigunde's hand ; On the square the oriel window , where in old heroic days Sat the poet Melchior ...
Page 30
... hand , Like an emigrant he wandered , seeking for the Better Land . Emigravit is the inscription on the tomb - stone where he lies ; Dead he is not , but departed , for the artist - never dies . - Fairer seems the ancient city , and the ...
... hand , Like an emigrant he wandered , seeking for the Better Land . Emigravit is the inscription on the tomb - stone where he lies ; Dead he is not , but departed , for the artist - never dies . - Fairer seems the ancient city , and the ...
Page 37
... , And the truth wore no disguise . Every vassal of his banner , Every serf born to his manor , All those wronged and wretched creatures , By his hand were freed again . And , as on the sacred missal He recorded their THE NORMAN BARON . 37.
... , And the truth wore no disguise . Every vassal of his banner , Every serf born to his manor , All those wronged and wretched creatures , By his hand were freed again . And , as on the sacred missal He recorded their THE NORMAN BARON . 37.
Page 42
... hand , From under the sheltering trees , The farmer sees His pastures , and his fields of grain , As they bend their tops To the numberless beating drops Of the incessant rain . He counts it as no sin That he sees therein Only his own ...
... hand , From under the sheltering trees , The farmer sees His pastures , and his fields of grain , As they bend their tops To the numberless beating drops Of the incessant rain . He counts it as no sin That he sees therein Only his own ...
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Common terms and phrases
Albrecht Dürer ancient timepiece Annie of Tharaw autumn beautiful beheld BELFRY OF BRUGES bells Beneath birds breathed bridge burgomaster CARILLON chanting Charlemagne chimes choir church of sainted cloud dark death door dost dream drifting earth fight at Minnewater Flanders Fleece of Gold Foresters Forever never forevermore Ghent Gleam golden Guy de Dampierre hand Hans Sachs hear heart heaven hemlock tree holy JULIUS MOSEN land light loud maiden fair Mastersingers Maximilian meadow brook mighty Minnesingers monk Namur nest Never forever night numbers Nuremberg o'er old Flemish city old Silenus once poem poet poet's quaint old Flemish rain restless RESTLESS HEART rhymes rise river roar round sainted Sebald sang sculpture seaweed shadows silent Sleep slumbered song sorrow soul sound stands stars sweet thee Thou art thought toil tower town of Bruges Twelve Apostles Twelve Wise Masters village Vogelweid voice wandering Wassail wild window yore Youth
Popular passages
Page 131 - THOUGH the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small ; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
Page 25 - The tumult of each sacked and burning village; The shout that every prayer for mercy drowns; The soldiers' revels in the midst of pillage; The wail of famine in beleaguered towns; The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder, The rattling musketry, the clashing blade; And ever and anon, in tones of thunder, The diapason of the cannonade. Is it, O man, with such discordant noises, With such accursed instruments as these, Thou drownest Nature's sweet and kindly voices, And jarrest the celestial...
Page 100 - All are scattered now and fled, Some are married, some are dead ; And when I ask. with throbs of pain, •' Ah ! when shall they all meet again ?" As in the days long since gone by, The ancient timepiece makes reply, — " Forever — never ! Never — forever !
Page 99 - His great fires up the chimney roared ; The stranger feasted at his board; But, like the skeleton at the feast. That warning timepiece never ceased, — "Forever — never ! Never — forever !" *> There groups of merry children played.
Page 40 - How beautiful is the rain ! After the dust and heat, In the broad and fiery street, In the narrow lane, How beautiful is the rain ! How it clatters along the roofs, Like the tramp of hoofs ! How it gushes and struggles out From the throat of the overflowing spout ! Across the window-pane It pours and pours ; And swift and wide, With a muddy tide, Like a river down the gutter roars The rain, the welcome rain...
Page 96 - Halfway up the stairs it stands, And points and beckons with its hands From its case of massive oak, Like a monk, who, under his cloak, Crosses himself, and sighs, alas ! With sorrowful voice to all who pass, — " Forever — never ! Never — forever...
Page 28 - Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg the ancient stands. Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song, Memories haunt thy pointed gables, like the rooks that round them throng : Memories of the Middle Ages, when the emperors, rough and bold, Had their dwelling in thy castle, time-defying, centuries old ; And thy brave and thrifty burghers boasted, in their uncouth rhyme, That their great imperial city stretched its hand through every clime.
Page 42 - Near at hand, From under the sheltering trees, The farmer sees His pastures, and his fields of grain, As they bend their tops To the numberless beating drops Of the incessant rain.
Page 102 - I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song ? Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke ; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.
Page 80 - And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.