The poetical works of Bret Harte. Complete ed

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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...

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