The Masterpieces and the History of Literature: Analysis, Criticism, Character and Incident, Том 9Julian Hawthorne Hamilton Book Company, 1908 |
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
American arms beautiful bells bird born bosom breath bright Byron Charles Dickens child cried dark death deep Deerslayer delight Donatello door dream earth Edinburgh Review England English eyes face fame father fear feel fire flowers genius hand happy head hear heard heart heaven Hester Hester Prynne Hilda Hudibrastic human Indian JOHN TRUMBULL Kenelm king Leigh Hunt Lenape light lips literary literature lived look Lord Martin Martin Chuzzlewit Mary Godwin mind Miriam nature never night Nydia o'er passed PHILIP FRENEAU poems poet poetry Poor Richard says Poor Richard's Almanac replied returned romance round seemed Shelley silent smile song Song of Hiawatha soul speak spirit stood story strange sweet tell thee thing thought tion Tom Bowles took trees turned Uncas Undine verse voice Weller wild wind words wrote young youth
Популарни одломци
Страница 221 - Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower : Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew. Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view...
Страница 142 - Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door — Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; This it is, and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger ; hesitating then no longer, "Sir...
Страница 224 - Thou still unravished bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Страница 221 - We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Страница 102 - And the sweet babe, and the gray-headed man, — Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those who in their turn shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, which moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him,...
Страница 265 - High instincts before which our mortal nature Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised : But for those first affections Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing...
Страница 142 - This it is and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door; Darkness there and nothing more.
Страница 251 - And I had done a hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe : For all averred, I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow.
Страница 266 - THE world is too much with us: late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.
Страница 245 - I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have been laughing, I have been carousing, Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies ; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.