The poetical works of Bret Harte. Complete ed |
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Сторінка 73
... battle turns , Erect and lonely stood old John Burns . How do you think the man was dressed ?, He wore an ancient long buff vest , Yellow as saffron , -but his best ; And buttoned over his manly breast Was a bright blue coat , with a ...
... battle turns , Erect and lonely stood old John Burns . How do you think the man was dressed ?, He wore an ancient long buff vest , Yellow as saffron , -but his best ; And buttoned over his manly breast Was a bright blue coat , with a ...
Сторінка 75
... battle there ; And some of the soldiers since declare That the gleam of his old white hat afar , Like the crested plume of the brave Navarre , That day was their oriflamme of war . So raged the battle . You know the rest : How the ...
... battle there ; And some of the soldiers since declare That the gleam of his old white hat afar , Like the crested plume of the brave Navarre , That day was their oriflamme of war . So raged the battle . You know the rest : How the ...
Сторінка 76
... old John Burns ; This is the moral the reader learns : In fighting the battle , the question's whether You'll show a hat that's white , or a feather ! THE TALE OF A PONY . NAME of my heroine 76 John Burns of Gettysburg .
... old John Burns ; This is the moral the reader learns : In fighting the battle , the question's whether You'll show a hat that's white , or a feather ! THE TALE OF A PONY . NAME of my heroine 76 John Burns of Gettysburg .
Сторінка 100
... battle , -I see , alas ! Thou'dst smooth these tidings o'er , - Nay speak the truth , whatever it be , Though it rend my bosom's core . " How fell he , —with his face to the foe , Upholding the flag he bore ? Oh ! say not that my boy ...
... battle , -I see , alas ! Thou'dst smooth these tidings o'er , - Nay speak the truth , whatever it be , Though it rend my bosom's core . " How fell he , —with his face to the foe , Upholding the flag he bore ? Oh ! say not that my boy ...
Сторінка 103
... battle - front was won ; Then the car , its journey done , Lo ! was stationary ; And where bullets whistling fly , Came the sadder , fainter cry , " Help us , brothers , ere we die . Save us , Sanitary ! " Such the work . The phantom ...
... battle - front was won ; Then the car , its journey done , Lo ! was stationary ; And where bullets whistling fly , Came the sadder , fainter cry , " Help us , brothers , ere we die . Save us , Sanitary ! " Such the work . The phantom ...
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The Poetical Works of Bret Harte. Complete Edition. Illustrated Francis Bret HARTE Повний перегляд - 1872 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
Addie De Laine ain't ALEXANDRE DUMAS Aspiring Miss Avitor breath Bret Harte Brown cañon cheer Chiquita Cicely Cooke derned Dow's Flat drifted Edward Eggleston Emeu eyes fair Flynn Francisca galleon George Routledge gone gray gray hawk hear heart heathen Chinee hill Hornitos hoss hundred Injin Jacob Faithful John Burns kissed Legends look lover Lycurgus Mark Twain Milton Perkins Miss Addie Miss De Laine Mission mountain never Newport Romance night o'er odour of mignonette Pachita Padre Pancha passed pine Pliocene Published by George rock round Routledge and Sons sad old house sailed San Joaquin Señor shipman's tale shore Silurian smile snow soul Spring of San stood story strange stranger Suthin sweet tale tell Tenterden thar thee thing thou Tom Jones troubled shore twas wait walk waters wild wonder
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Сторінка 61 - Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are- dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar — Which the same I am free to maintain.
Сторінка 23 - With hopvines' incense all the pensive glory That fills the Kentish hills. And on that grave where English oak, and holly, And laurel wreaths entwine, Deem it not all a too presumptuous folly, — This spray of Western pine!
Сторінка 63 - But the hands that were played By that heathen Chinee, And the points that he made Were quite frightful to see, Till at last he put down a right bower, Which the same Nye had dealt unto me. Then I looked up at Nye, And he gazed upon me; And he rose with a sigh, And said, "Can this be? We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor;" And he went for that heathen Chinee.
Сторінка 104 - HARK ! I hear the tramp of thousands, And of armed men the hum ; Lo ! a nation's hosts have gathered Round the quick alarming drum, — Saying, " Come, Freemen, come ! Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick alarming drum.
Сторінка 26 - Come now, really that's the oddest Talk for one so very modest. You brag of your East! You do? Why, I bring the East to you! All the Orient, all Cathay, Find through me the shortest way; And the sun you follow here Rises in my hemisphere. Really, - if one must be rude, Length, my friend, ain't longitude.
Сторінка 118 - Then my heart it grew ashen and sober As the leaves that were crisped and sere — As the leaves that were withering and sere; And I cried — "It was surely October On this very night of last year That I journeyed — I journeyed down here — That I brought a dread burden down here! On this night of all nights in the year, Ah, what demon has tempted me here?
Сторінка 67 - Now, I hold it is not decent for a scientific gent To say another is an ass — at least, to all intent ; Nor should the individual who happens to be meant Reply by heaving rocks at him to any great extent.
Сторінка 17 - And now, in my higher ambition, With whom do I waltz, flirt, or talk ? " " And isn't it nice to have riches, And diamonds and silks, and all that ? " " And aren't it a change to the ditches • And tunnels of Poverty Flat...
Сторінка 72 - The milk that fell like a babbling flood Into the milk-pail red as blood ! Or how he fancied the hum of bees Were bullets buzzing among the trees. But all such fanciful thoughts as these Were strange to a practical man like Burns, Who minded only his own concerns, Troubled no more by fancies...
Сторінка 19 - ... funny To think, as I stood in the glare Of fashion and beauty and money, That I should be thinking, right there, Of some one who breasted high water, And swam the North Fork, and all that, Just to dance with old Folinsbee's daughter, The Lily of Poverty Flat. But goodness ! what nonsense I'm writing! (Mamma says my taste still is low,) Instead of my triumphs reciting, I'm spooning on Joseph, — heigh-ho ! And I'm to be "finished" by travel, — Whatever's the meaning of that, — Oh ! why did...