File:The poets and poetry in America, to the middle of the nineteenth century (1850) (14580992398).jpg

Identifier: poetspoetryiname00gris (find matches)
Title: The poets and poetry in America, to the middle of the nineteenth century
Year: 1850 (1850s)
Authors: Griswold, Rufus W. (Rufus Wilmot), 1815-1857
Subjects: American poetry
Publisher: Philadelphia, Carey and Hart
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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e purple haze,That showers from his slanting rays,A thousand loves there meet her gaze, To change her high heroic thinking. Then hope, with all its crowd of fancies,Before her flits and fills the air;And, deckd in victorys glorious gear,In vision Isidor is there. Then how her heart mid sadness dances! Yet little thought she, thus forestallingThe coming joy, that in that hourThe future, like the colourd showerThat seems to arch the ocean oer, Was in the living present falling. The foe is slain. His sable charger All fleckd with foam comes bounding on,The wild Morena rings anon,And on its brow the gallant Don, And gallant steed grow larger, larger; And now he nears the mountain-hollow;The flowery bank and little lakeNow on his startled vision break—And Inez there.—Hes not awake— Ah, what a day this dream will follow! But no—he surely is not dreaming.Another minute makes it clear.A scream, a rush, a burning tearFrom Inez cheek, dispel the fear That bliss like his is only seeming.
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;inn gipjiMEsm m^EWt WASHINGTON ALLSTON. 81 ON GREENOUGHS GROUP OF THEANGEL AND CHILD. I stood alone; nor word, nor other sound,Broke the mute solitude that closed me round;As when the air doth take her midnight sleep,Leaving the wintry stars her watch to keep,So slept she now at noon. But not aloneMy spirit then: a light within me shone That was not mine; and feelings undefined,And thoughts flowd in upon me not my own.T was that deep mystery—for aye unknown— The living presence of anothers mind. Another mind was there—the gift of few— That by its own strong will can all thats true In its own nature unto others give, And mingling life with life, seem there to live. I felt it now in mine; and oh ! how fair, How beautiful the thoughts that met me there— Visions of Love, and Purity, and Truth !Though form distinct had each,they seemd,astwere,Imbodied all of one celestial air— To beam for ever in coequal youth. And thus I Iearnd—as in the mind they moved—These stranger Tho

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