ISBN: 9780217185264

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 illustra… More...

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.1910 Excerpt: ... THE BROOK JULY XXX Oftentimes I used to look Upon its banks, and long To steal the beauty of the brook And put it in a song. ELOW the ancient grassy hill it flows Among the pastures by the shadowy wood, And melts at last into the Brandywine. Small willows bend above it, fragrant weeds Draw from it sweetness for their golden blooms And purple blossoms, cattle stoop to drink And dream and ruminate beside its sands And mossy stones; and from the shadowy wood Come shy wood-creatures,--birds and merry squirrels And swift ground-hackies,--sip and disappear; So manifold the life its waters feed. ''Tis here I love to walk at twilight hour Beneath the old forsaken orchard trees, And near the ancient, quaint Star-gazers'' Stone, When o''er the shoulder of the grassy hill The sickle moon swings low;--the cows have gone, Shut in the upland pasture for the night; The gold and purple blossoms of the weeds Hang drowsily; the birds and merry squirrels Sleep safely in their woodland bowers; and all The little valley slumbers, save the brook. The Brook More sweet its melody by night than day, So silent is all else; with silvery purl And soft adagios it bubbles down O''er elfin slopes and faery waterfalls; It murmurs soft in mossy cool retreats, Caresses many a bed of cress, and flows Between white stones in tiny sluices swift. The twilight deepens into dusk; on high The argent crescent swims above the hill Like some white faery island set adrift; Soft night-winds sweep the ancient grassy hill And stir keen weedy fragrance, while the brook Sings on with ceaseless music. Then, I think, Nature most truly speaks; ''tis then she yields Unto her devotees her utmost spell. The endless twilight of the mid-day woods Or evening in the dim and moonlit fields Are magic hours! And thee, d... John Russell Hayes, Books, History, Brandywine Days; Or, The Shepherd's Hour-glass Books>History This is an OCR edition without illustrations or index. It may have numerous typos or missing text. However, purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original rare book from GeneralBooksClub.com. You can also preview excerpts from the book there. Purchasers are also entitled to a free trial membership in the General Books Club where they can select from more than a million books without charge. Original Published by: The Biddle Press in 1910 in 295 pages; Subjects: History / General;<

ISBN: 9780217185264

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www. million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: BES… More...

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www. million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: BESIDE THIS TWILIGHT SHORE JUNE XVIII rWILL, not ask for more- i Only one love-song sorrowful and golden Beside this twilight shore, Sweet as Ulysses heard in legends olden- I will not ask for more; Beside this twilight shore One love-song with its pathos sweet and olden- I will not Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www. million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: BESIDE THIS TWILIGHT SHORE JUNE XVIII rWILL, not ask for more- i Only one love-song sorrowful and golden Beside this twilight shore, Sweet as Ulysses heard in legends olden- I will not ask for more; Beside this twilight shore One love-song with its pathos sweet and olden- I will not ask for more- Yearning with sorrows and with memories golden Beside this twilight shore. IN THE OLD ATTIC UNE XIX. We awake this morning to country sunshine and joyance; the blackbirds chatter in the tall maples, and from its home in the woodland edge the ring-dove is softly pleading. The long- silent old House is sad only in memory now, for its halls are vocal with the song of children, merry, merry children, "Crazy with laughter and babble and earth's new wine." The tender melancholy of the ring-dove's note seems veritably a token of the sentiment of the old House in these brigfit June hours, a "pensive recollection" mingling with its present blithe music. Through all the months between our summers here, the ancient Homestead dreams in solitude. The tall colonial clock ticks not, but stands mournful in its shadowy corner; the midnight mouse plays on the moonlit garret floor; and the quaint harpsichord stands silent and immelodious, a memorial of some ancestral "gentlewoman of the old school" who held not so strictly to the Quaker rule that she must shut music out of her sweet life. "I know she played and sang, for yet We keep the tumble-down spinet To which she quavered ballads set By Arne or Jackson." In those long still months of autumn and winter the shuttered windows reflect no sunset skies, and the moaning winds pile with their store of faded leaves the deep doorways and the flag-paven porches. The great pine and In the Old Attic the maples swa. Books, History~~General, Brandywine-Days-Or-the-Shepherds-Hour-Glass~~John-Russell-Hayes, , , , , , , , , , General Books LLC<

ISBN: 9780217185264

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 illustra… More...

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.1910 Excerpt: ... THE BROOK JULY XXX Oftentimes I used to look Upon its banks, and long To steal the beauty of the brook And put it in a song. ELOW the ancient grassy hill it flows Among the pastures by the shadowy wood, And melts at last into the Brandywine. Small willows bend above it, fragrant weeds Draw from it sweetness for their golden blooms And purple blossoms, cattle stoop to drink And dream and ruminate beside its sands And mossy stones; and from the shadowy wood Come shy wood-creatures,--birds and merry squirrels And swift ground-hackies,--sip and disappear; So manifold the life its waters feed. ''Tis here I love to walk at twilight hour Beneath the old forsaken orchard trees, And near the ancient, quaint Star-gazers'' Stone, When o''er the shoulder of the grassy hill The sickle moon swings low;--the cows have gone, Shut in the upland pasture for the night; The gold and purple blossoms of the weeds Hang drowsily; the birds and merry squirrels Sleep safely in their woodland bowers; and all The little valley slumbers, save the brook. The Brook More sweet its melody by night than day, So silent is all else; with silvery purl And soft adagios it bubbles down O''er elfin slopes and faery waterfalls; It murmurs soft in mossy cool retreats, Caresses many a bed of cress, and flows Between white stones in tiny sluices swift. The twilight deepens into dusk; on high The argent crescent swims above the hill Like some white faery island set adrift; Soft night-winds sweep the ancient grassy hill And stir keen weedy fragrance, while the brook Sings on with ceaseless music. Then, I think, Nature most truly speaks; ''tis then she yields Unto her devotees her utmost spell. The endless twilight of the mid-day woods Or evening in the dim and moonlit fields Are magic hours! And thee, d... John Russell Hayes, Books, History, Brandywine Days; Or, The Shepherd's Hour-glass Books>History, General Books LLC<

ISBN: 0217185266