Comentarios de la gente - Escribir un comentario
No encontramos ningún comentario en los lugares habituales.
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
The Mountain Prophet, the Mine, and Other Poems
Associate Professor University of Alberta Canada John Harris
Sin vista previa disponible - 2016
beauty beneath beside birds bless breath bright Camborne child clouds Cornish Cornwall cottage darkness dear Derby dwelling earth Edward eyes face fall Falmouth father feel fell fields fire floating flow flowers gazing gentle give glory gold golden hand happy Harris head heard heart heaven hills holy hope hour James John kind kiss labour land light Liskeard living lone look Lord miner Miss moor morn mother mountain Muse nature never night o'er once pass'd Penzance poems poet praise prayer praying rich rock round shining side singing sits smile song soon soul spirit stars strange stream sweet tears thee things Thou thought toil tree true turn voice volume weep wild winds wings wood
Página 155 - I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy, The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride; Of Him who walked in glory and in joy Following his plough, along the mountain-side : By our own spirits are we deified : We poets in our youth begin in gladness; But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
Página 7 - Maggot's cottage — and never in this world was a more flat and emphatic contradiction given to any statement, than that which was given to David Trevarrow's assertion — "There are none to weep if I was taken away." (A short but beautiful account of the above incident will be found in a little volume of poems, entitled Lays from the Mine, the Moor, and the Mountain, written by John Harris, a Cornish miner.) CHAPTER THIRTY Reveals some Astonishing Facts and their Consequences.
Página 88 - And when in after days the lash Was drinking her hot blood, And crushing her worn frame to earth, Because she pray'd to God ; The black maid's spirit bounded high On wings of silvery light, And join'd the throngs of Paradise In robes of purest white.
Página 56 - And there a crusher crash'd the copper ore. Here girls were cobbing under roofs of straw, And there were giggers at the oaken hutch. Here a man-engine...
Página 87 - And burring sighs roll up to heaven For vengeance on the slain. A colour'd maiden, free from guile, And gentle as the rain Which falls at leafy summer-time Upon the grassy plain, Came to her mistress sighing much ; Who blush'd not thus to rave : " A black maid with a face like yours Has not a soul to save.
Página 88 - Among the sugar-trees, A heavenly voice came on her ear, Borne by the passing breeze. And as it floated through her hair, And kiss'd the slave-dress'd sod, It...
Página 87 - Whose funeral-shadow falls upon The field of slavery. Down in a hollow where the roe Bounds wild from rock to rock, A stately mansion stands, where dwell A planter and his flock.
Página 56 - With pincers in his hand ; and troops of maids With heavy hammers brake the mineral stones. The cart-man cried, and shook his broken whip ; And on the steps of the account-house stood The active agent, with his eye on all.