Century Readings for a Course in American Literature, Том 2Fred Lewis Pattee Century Company, 1926 - 1081 страница |
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... Dream of Sappho Among the Hills Men of Dartmouth Spring : An Ode · WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY ( 1869-1910 ) An Ode in Time of Hesitation Other Poets of the Period . . SILAS WEIR MITCHELL ( 1829-1914 ) To a Magnolia Flower Vesperal Storm ...
... Dream of Sappho Among the Hills Men of Dartmouth Spring : An Ode · WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY ( 1869-1910 ) An Ode in Time of Hesitation Other Poets of the Period . . SILAS WEIR MITCHELL ( 1829-1914 ) To a Magnolia Flower Vesperal Storm ...
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... dream of poetry as a profession faded quickly as did Freneau's and Barlow's . The times were rude and far from ready for professional poets . Reluctantly he bade fare- well to the muse and gave himself up to the practice of the law ...
... dream of poetry as a profession faded quickly as did Freneau's and Barlow's . The times were rude and far from ready for professional poets . Reluctantly he bade fare- well to the muse and gave himself up to the practice of the law ...
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... dream , The sword flew up , and kick'd the beam . 300 Our ' squire on tiptoe rising fair Lifts high a noble stroke in air , 295 Which hung not , but like dreadful engines , Descended on the foe in vengeance . 305 310 315 320 But ah ! in ...
... dream , The sword flew up , and kick'd the beam . 300 Our ' squire on tiptoe rising fair Lifts high a noble stroke in air , 295 Which hung not , but like dreadful engines , Descended on the foe in vengeance . 305 310 315 320 But ah ! in ...
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... dream , and recollect A fearful vision at the midnight hour ; So late , Death o'er me spread his sable wings , Painted with fancies of malignant power ! 6 By some sad means , when Reason holds no sway , Lonely I rov'd at midnight o'er a ...
... dream , and recollect A fearful vision at the midnight hour ; So late , Death o'er me spread his sable wings , Painted with fancies of malignant power ! 6 By some sad means , when Reason holds no sway , Lonely I rov'd at midnight o'er a ...
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... dream , Where Cynthia , in retirement , sleeps . Sweet murmuring stream ! how blest art thou To kiss the bank where she resides , Where Nature decks the beechen bough That trembles o'er your shallow tides . 5 The cypress - tree on ...
... dream , Where Cynthia , in retirement , sleeps . Sweet murmuring stream ! how blest art thou To kiss the bank where she resides , Where Nature decks the beechen bough That trembles o'er your shallow tides . 5 The cypress - tree on ...
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American arms ARSACES Atlantic Monthly Aylmer beauty Ben Bolt beneath bird brave called captain Cotton Mather dark David Swan dead death door dream earth England eyes face fancy father fear feel feet fire give Graham's Magazine hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha hope hour human Indian JESSAMY JONATHAN land laugh leave light literary live look Lord Rawdon ment mind Miss Ophelia morning nature never night Nokomis o'er once Paspahegh passed poems poet river round sail seemed shore side silence sing smile song Song of Hiawatha soul spirit stand stood sweet tell thee thet things thou thought tion Tom Walker Topsy trees turned VARDANES voice Vulpes whigs whole wigwam wild wind woods words young youth Zoeterwoude
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Страница 246 - To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Страница 444 - I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea...
Страница 352 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like...
Страница 248 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near...
Страница 440 - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door — Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou...
Страница 357 - There is no death! What seems so is transition; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Страница 247 - Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Страница 440 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and. curious volume of forgotten lore — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " "Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.
Страница 246 - To be a brother to the insensible rock And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon.
Страница 419 - To HELEN Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.