ISBN: 9780217402897

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:L'EN… 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:L'ENVOI TO THE MUSE Whither? Albeit I follow fast, In all life's circuit I but find, Not where thou art, but where thou wast, Sweet beckoner, more fleet than wind I I haunt the pine-dark solitudes, With soft brown silence carpeted, And plot to snare thee in the woods: Peace I o'ertake, but thou 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:L'ENVOI TO THE MUSE Whither? Albeit I follow fast, In all life's circuit I but find, Not where thou art, but where thou wast, Sweet beckoner, more fleet than wind I I haunt the pine-dark solitudes, With soft brown silence carpeted, And plot to snare thee in the woods: Peace I o'ertake, but thou art fled! I find the rock where thou didst rest, The moss thy skimming foot hath prest; All Nature with thy parting thrills, Like branches after birds new-flown; Thy passage hill and hollow fills With hints of virtue not their own; In dimples still the water slips Where thou hast dipt thy finger-tips; Just, just beyond, forever burn Gleams of a grace without return; Upon thy shade I plant my foot, And through my frame strange raptures shoot; All of thee but thyself I grasp; I seem to fold thy luring shape, And vague air to my bosom clasp, Thou lithe, perpetual Escape! One mask and then another drops, And thou art secret as before: Sometimes with flooded ear I list, And hear thee, wondrous organist, From mighty continental stops A thunder of new music pour; Through pipes of earth and air and stone Thy inspiration deep is blown; Through mountains, forests, open downs, Lakes, railroads, prairies, states, and towns. Thy gathering fugue goes rolling on From Maine to utmost Oregon; The factory-wheels in cadence hum, From brawling parties concords come; All this I hear, or seem to hear, But when, enchanted, I draw near To mate with words the various theme, Life seems a whiff of kitchen steam, History an organ-grinder's thrum, For thou hast slipt from it and me And all thine organ-pipes left dumb, Most mutable Perversity! Not weary yet, I still must seek, And hope for luck next day, next week; I go to see the great man ride. Books, History~~General, The-Works-Of-James-Russell-Lowell~~James-Russell-Lowell, 999999999, The Works Of James Russell Lowell (V. 10), James Russell Lowell, 0217402895, General Books LLC, , , , , General Books LLC<

ISBN: 9780217402897

[ED: Taschenbuch], [PU: Cambridge Scholars Publishing], Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. Th… More...

[ED: Taschenbuch], [PU: Cambridge Scholars Publishing], 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: L'ENVOI TO THE MUSE Whither ? Albeit I follow fast, In all life's circuit I but find, Not where thou art, but where thou wast, Sweet beckoner, more fleet than wind I I haunt the pine-dark solitudes, With soft brown silence carpeted, And plot to snare thee in the woods: Peace I o'ertake, but thou art fled ! I find the rock where thou didst rest, The moss thy skimming foot hath prest All Nature with thy parting thrills, Like branches after birds new-flown Thy passage hill and hollow fills With hints of virtue not their own In dimples still the water slips Where thou hast dipt thy finger-tips Just, just beyond, forever burn Gleams of a grace without return Upon thy shade I plant my foot, And through my frame strange raptures shoot All of thee but thyself I grasp I seem to fold thy luring shape, And vague air to my bosom clasp, Thou lithe, perpetual Escape! One mask and then another drops, And thou art secret as before: Sometimes with flooded ear I list, And hear thee, wondrous organist, From mighty continental stops A thunder of new music pour Through pipes of earth and air and stone Thy inspiration deep is blown Through mountains, forests, open downs, Lakes, railroads, prairies, states, and towns. Thy gathering fugue goes rolling on From Maine to utmost Oregon The factory-wheels in cadence hum, From brawling parties concords come All this I hear, or seem to hear, But when, enchanted, I draw near To mate with words the various theme, Life seems a whiff of kitchen steam, History an organ-grinder's thrum, For thou hast slipt from it and me And all thine organ-pipes left dumb, Most mutable Perversity! Not weary yet, I still must seek, And hope for luck next day, next week I go to see the great man ride...Versandfertig in 6-10 Tagen, [SC: 0.00]<

ISBN: 9780217402897

[ED: Taschenbuch], [PU: Cambridge Scholars Publishing], Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. Th… More...

[ED: Taschenbuch], [PU: Cambridge Scholars Publishing], 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: L'ENVOI TO THE MUSE Whither ? Albeit I follow fast, In all life's circuit I but find, Not where thou art, but where thou wast, Sweet beckoner, more fleet than wind I I haunt the pine-dark solitudes, With soft brown silence carpeted, And plot to snare thee in the woods: Peace I o'ertake, but thou art fled ! I find the rock where thou didst rest, The moss thy skimming foot hath prest All Nature with thy parting thrills, Like branches after birds new-flown Thy passage hill and hollow fills With hints of virtue not their own In dimples still the water slips Where thou hast dipt thy finger-tips Just, just beyond, forever burn Gleams of a grace without return Upon thy shade I plant my foot, And through my frame strange raptures shoot All of thee but thyself I grasp I seem to fold thy luring shape, And vague air to my bosom clasp, Thou lithe, perpetual Escape! One mask and then another drops, And thou art secret as before: Sometimes with flooded ear I list, And hear thee, wondrous organist, From mighty continental stops A thunder of new music pour Through pipes of earth and air and stone Thy inspiration deep is blown Through mountains, forests, open downs, Lakes, railroads, prairies, states, and towns. Thy gathering fugue goes rolling on From Maine to utmost Oregon The factory-wheels in cadence hum, From brawling parties concords come All this I hear, or seem to hear, But when, enchanted, I draw near To mate with words the various theme, Life seems a whiff of kitchen steam, History an organ-grinder's thrum, For thou hast slipt from it and me And all thine organ-pipes left dumb, Most mutable Perversity! Not weary yet, I still must seek, And hope for luck next day, next week I go to see the great man ride...Versandfertig in 6-10 Tagen, [SC: 0.00]<

ISBN: 0217402895