Full Online Books
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
Full Online Book HomePoemsA Presentiment
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
A Presentiment Post by :FayeB Category :Poems Author :William Cullen Bryant Date :January 2011 Read :1456

Click below to download : A Presentiment (Format : PDF)

A Presentiment

"Oh father, let us hence--for hark,
A fearful murmur shakes the air.
The clouds are coming swift and dark:--
What horrid shapes they wear!
A winged giant sails the sky;
Oh father, father, let us fly!"

"Hush, child; it is a grateful sound,
That beating of the summer shower;
Here, where the boughs hang close around,
We'll pass a pleasant hour,
Till the fresh wind, that brings the rain,
Has swept the broad heaven clear again."

"Nay, father, let us haste--for see,
That horrid thing with horned brow,--
His wings o'erhang this very tree,
He scowls upon us now;
His huge black arm is lifted high;
Oh father, father, let us fly!"

"Hush, child;" but, as the father spoke,
Downward the livid firebolt came,
Close to his ear the thunder broke,
And, blasted by the flame,
The child lay dead; while dark and still,
Swept the grim cloud along the hill.

(The end)
William Cullen Bryant's poem: Presentiment

If you like this book please share to your friends :

The Child's Funeral The Child's Funeral

The Child's Funeral
Fair is thy site, Sorrento, green thy shore, Black crags behind thee pierce the clear blue skies;The sea, whose borderers ruled the world of yore, As clear and bluer still before thee lies.Vesuvius smokes in sight, whose fount of fire, Outgushing, drowned the cities on his steeps;And murmuring Naples, spire o'ertopping spire, Sits on the slope beyond where Virgil sleeps.Here doth the earth, with flowers of every hue, Heap her green breast when April suns are bright,Flowers of the morning-red, or ocean-blue, Or like the mountain frost of silvery white.Currents of fragrance, from the orange tree, And sward of violets, breathing

The Green Mountain Boys The Green Mountain Boys

The Green Mountain Boys
I.Here we halt our march, and pitch our tent On the rugged forest ground,And light our fire with the branches rent By winds from the beeches round.Wild storms have torn this ancient wood, But a wilder is at hand,With hail of iron and rain of blood, To sweep and waste the land.II.How the dark wood rings with voices shrill, That startle the sleeping bird;To-morrow eve must the voice be still, And the step must fall unheard.The Briton lies by the blue Champlain, In Ticonderoga's towers,And ere the sun rise twice again, The towers and the lake are ours.III.Fill up the bowl