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Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 2 12 0 Browse Search
Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 3 (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.) 12 0 Browse Search
Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 1, Colonial and Revolutionary Literature: Early National Literature: Part I (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.) 10 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, John Greenleaf Whittier 6 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Oldport days, with ten heliotype illustrations from views taken in Newport, R. I., expressly for this work. 4 0 Browse Search
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 4 0 Browse Search
George Bancroft, History of the Colonization of the United States, Vol. 1, 17th edition. 4 0 Browse Search
Bliss Perry, The American spirit in lierature: a chronicle of great interpreters 4 0 Browse Search
The Daily Dispatch: January 7, 1865., [Electronic resource] 2 0 Browse Search
The Cambridge of eighteen hundred and ninety-six: a picture of the city and its industries fifty years after its incorporation (ed. Arthur Gilman) 2 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 1. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier). You can also browse the collection for Spenser or search for Spenser in all documents.

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The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 1. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Proem (search)
Proem I love the old melodious lays Which softly melt the ages through, The songs of Spenser's golden days, Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase, Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew. Yet, vainly in my quiet hours To breathe their marvellous notes I try; I feel them, as the leaves and flowers In silence feel the dewy showers, And drink with glad, still lips the blessing of the sky. The rigor of a frozen clime, The harshness of an untaught ear, The jarring words of one whose rhyme Beat often Labor's hurried time, Or Duty's rugged march through storm and strife, are here. Of mystic beauty, dreamy grace, No rounded art the lack supplies; Unskilled the subtle lines to trace, Or softer shades of Nature's face, I view her common forms with unanointed eyes. The secrets of the heart and mind; To drop the plummet-line below Our common world of joy and woe, A more intense despair or brighter hope to find. Yet here at least an earnest sense Of human right and weal is show