Modern American and British PoetryLouis Untermeyer Harcourt, Brace, 1923 - 403 стор. |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 19
Сторінка 22
... experimental age . It is only when we under- stand our " new " American writing to be part of a literature of protest - protest against ugliness , machine- made progress , standardized " success " -that we can 22 Preface.
... experimental age . It is only when we under- stand our " new " American writing to be part of a literature of protest - protest against ugliness , machine- made progress , standardized " success " -that we can 22 Preface.
Сторінка 23
... stand and appreciate its quality . As The Literary Review ( N. Y. Post ) said , in an editorial in January , 1922 : " We could not go on with sentimental novels and spine- less lyrics forever . The artists had to refocus the instru ...
... stand and appreciate its quality . As The Literary Review ( N. Y. Post ) said , in an editorial in January , 1922 : " We could not go on with sentimental novels and spine- less lyrics forever . The artists had to refocus the instru ...
Сторінка 49
... stand , Each in the same old place , Awaiting the touch of a little hand , The smile of a little face ; And they wonder , as waiting the long years through In the dust of that little chair , What has become of our Little Boy Blue ...
... stand , Each in the same old place , Awaiting the touch of a little hand , The smile of a little face ; And they wonder , as waiting the long years through In the dust of that little chair , What has become of our Little Boy Blue ...
Сторінка 186
... stand Beside my desk and talk to me . Still on his delicate pale face A quizzical thin smile is showing , His cheeks are wrinkled like fine lace , His kind blue eyes are gay and glowing . He wears a brilliant - hued cravat , A suit to ...
... stand Beside my desk and talk to me . Still on his delicate pale face A quizzical thin smile is showing , His cheeks are wrinkled like fine lace , His kind blue eyes are gay and glowing . He wears a brilliant - hued cravat , A suit to ...
Сторінка 198
... tilting planet Stand before a glass and tie my tie . Vine - leaves tap my window , Dew - drops sing to the garden stones , The robin chirps in the chinaberry tree Repeating three clear 198 Conrad Aiken Morning Song from "Senlin" ·
... tilting planet Stand before a glass and tie my tie . Vine - leaves tap my window , Dew - drops sing to the garden stones , The robin chirps in the chinaberry tree Repeating three clear 198 Conrad Aiken Morning Song from "Senlin" ·
Зміст
72 | |
75 | |
81 | |
87 | |
97 | |
103 | |
107 | |
117 | |
125 | |
135 | |
145 | |
152 | |
159 | |
167 | |
176 | |
183 | |
185 | |
189 | |
195 | |
202 | |
210 | |
217 | |
225 | |
282 | |
290 | |
298 | |
308 | |
312 | |
323 | |
329 | |
335 | |
342 | |
348 | |
357 | |
358 | |
363 | |
374 | |
375 | |
380 | |
381 | |
387 | |
396 | |
401 | |
402 | |
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
A. E. Housman Amy Lowell Ballads beauty bird blue BOOM boomlay born Bret Harte bright City collection color dark dead death dreams dust earth Edgar Lee Masters England eyes feet flame flowers Frost glory gold golden grass Gunga Gunga Din hand hear heart heaven hills hoo-doo Imagists John Masefield John of Austria Kipling knew laughed light lilac-time Lincoln Lindsay lines living look Louis Untermeyer Macmillan Company Masefield Miniver moon morning never night passion poems poet poetic poetry Preface prose published Reprinted by permission rhyme rhythm Richard Hovey Sandburg Sara Teasdale silence silver sing Smoke song soul spirit Spoon River Anthology stars steel stone story sweet things thought trees turned Untermeyer Vachel Lindsay verse voice volume Whitman wild William William Rose Benét wind word write
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 36 - Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind the Gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghost of shores, Before him only shoreless seas. The good mate said: "Now must we pray, For lo! the very stars are gone. Brave Admiral, speak, what shall I say?
Сторінка 232 - Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate : I am the captain of my soul.
Сторінка 230 - We build up the world's great cities, And out of a fabulous story We fashion an empire's glory: One man with a dream, at pleasure, Shall go forth and conquer a crown; And three with a new song's measure Can trample an empire down.
Сторінка 48 - Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, The emptiness of ages in his face, And on his back the burden of the world.
Сторінка 33 - 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 34 - Yet the cards they were stocked In a way that I grieve, And my feelings were shocked At the state of Nye's sleeve, Which was stuffed full of aces and bowers, And the same with intent to deceive.
Сторінка 37 - Sail on! sail on! and on!" They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate: "This mad sea shows his teeth tonight. He curls his lip, he lies in wait, With lifted teeth, as if to bite! Brave Admiral, say but one good word : What shall we do when hope is gone ?" The words leapt like a leaping sword: "Sail on! sail on! and on!
Сторінка 234 - REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be ; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
Сторінка 158 - In a Station of the Metro": The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals, on a wet, black bough.
Сторінка 233 - A LATE lark twitters from the quiet skies ; And from the west, Where the sun, his day's work ended, Lingers as in content, There falls on the old, gray city An influence luminous and serene, A shining peace. The smoke ascends In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires Shine, and are changed. In the valley Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun, Closing his benediction, Sinks, and the darkening air Thrills with a sense of the triumphing night — Night with her train of stars And her great gift of sleep.