File:Poems (1852) (14780165064).jpg

Identifier: poem00long (find matches)
Title: Poems
Year: 1852 (1850s)
Authors: Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 1807-1882 Benham, Jane E. illus Foster, Myles Birket, 1825-1899, illus
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Publisher: London, D. Bogue
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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pomp and ease. I beheld proud Maximilian, kneeling humbly on the ground;I beheld the gentle Mary, hunting with her hawk and hound: And her lighted bridal-chamber, where a duke slept with the queen,And the armed guard around them, and the sword unsheathedbetween. I beheld the Flemish weavers, with Namur and Juliers bold,Marching homeward from the bloody battle of the Spurs of Gold ; Saw the fight at Minnewater, saw the White Hoods moving west,Saw great Artevelde victorious scale the Golden Dragons nest. And again the whiskered Spaniard all the land with terror smote ;And again the wild alarum sounded from the tocsins throat; Till the bell of Ghent responded oer lagoon and dike of sand, I am Roland! I am Roland! there is victory in the land! Then the sound of drums aroused me. The awakened citys roarChased the phantoms I had summoned back into their graves oncemore. Hours had passed away like minutes; and before I was aware,Lo! the shadow of the belfry crossed the sun-illumined square.
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Tins is the place. Stand still, my steed, Let me review the scene,And summon from the shadowy Past The forms that once have been. The Past and Present here uniteBeneath Times flowing tide, Like foot-prints hidden by a brook,But seen on either side. A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE. 281 Here runs the highway to the town ; There the green lane descends,Through which I walked to church with thee, O gentlest of my friends ! The shadow of the linden trees Lay moving on the grass;Between them and the moving boughs, A shadow, thou didst pass. Thy dress was like the lilies, And thy heart as pure as they: One of Gods holy messengersDid walk with me that day. I saw the branches of the treesBend down thy touch to meet, The clover-blossoms in the grassRise up to kiss thy feet. Sleep, sleep to-day, tormenting cares, Of earth and folly born! Solemnly sang the village choir On that sweet sabbath morn. Through the closed blinds the golden sun Poured in a dusty beam,Like the celestial ladder seen By Jacob in his d

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