The Prose Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: With Bibliographical and Critical Notes; in Two Volumes, Volumen 2

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1886

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Página 231 - Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar?
Página 170 - Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in, the beauty of a thousand stars...
Página 379 - I have trodden the wine-press alone, and of the people there was none with me : for I will tread them in mine anger, and trample them in my fury, and their blood shall be sprinkled upon my garments, and I will stain all my raiment.
Página 312 - Yea, I think it meet, as long as I am in this tabernacle, to stir you up by putting you in remembrance ; knowing that shortly I must put off this my tabernacle, even as our Lord Jesus Christ hath shewed me.
Página 312 - Wherefore I will not be negligent to put you always in remembrance of these things, though ye know them, and be established in the present truth.
Página 250 - Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill My perspective still as they pass; Or else remove me hence unto that hill * Where I shall need no glass.
Página 195 - I KNOW a maiden fair to see, Take care ! She can both false and friendly be, Beware ! Beware ! Trust her not. She is fooling thee ! She has two eyes, so soft and brown, Take care ! She gives a side-glance and looks down, Beware ! Beware ! Trust her not, She ifl fooling thee ! And she has hair of a golden hue, Take care ! And what she says, it is not true, Beware ! Beware ! Trunt her not, She is fooling thee ! She has a bosom as white as snow, Take care ! She knows how much it is best to show.
Página 379 - Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah? this that is glorious in his apparel, traveling in the greatness of his strength? I that speak in righteousness, mighty to save.
Página 112 - Whoe'er she be, That not impossible she That shall command my heart and me; Where'er she lie, Locked up from mortal eye In shady leaves of destiny: Till that ripe birth Of studied Fate stand forth...
Página 249 - After the sun's remove. I see them walking in an air of glory, "Whose light doth trample on my days — My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, Mere glimmering and decays.

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