The Living Authors of America: 1st serStringer and Townsend, 1850 - 365 стор. |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 53
Сторінка 12
... once heard of a very acute critic . A party of friends one evening were discuss- ing the acting of the elder Kean and his son ; all agreed in praising the felicity with which the son imitated the father : one went so far as to declare ...
... once heard of a very acute critic . A party of friends one evening were discuss- ing the acting of the elder Kean and his son ; all agreed in praising the felicity with which the son imitated the father : one went so far as to declare ...
Сторінка 14
... once facetiously observed , his piano ; inclination is not a good test of genius . It is too fre- quently the offspring of indolence and facility of execution . It is the common trick of humanity to avoid the toilsome and rugged road ...
... once facetiously observed , his piano ; inclination is not a good test of genius . It is too fre- quently the offspring of indolence and facility of execution . It is the common trick of humanity to avoid the toilsome and rugged road ...
Сторінка 16
... once recognise their affinity to each other , and the necessity for the existence of each , with as much logical readiness as the eye passes over the human frame , and at once detects a deficiency or superfluity of the limbs composing ...
... once recognise their affinity to each other , and the necessity for the existence of each , with as much logical readiness as the eye passes over the human frame , and at once detects a deficiency or superfluity of the limbs composing ...
Сторінка 29
... once more turned towards the vessel . The current swept him diagonally by the rocks , and he was forced into an eddy , where he had nothing to contend against but the waves , whose violence was much broken by the wreck . In this state ...
... once more turned towards the vessel . The current swept him diagonally by the rocks , and he was forced into an eddy , where he had nothing to contend against but the waves , whose violence was much broken by the wreck . In this state ...
Сторінка 36
... once before that day been so finely developed in the race of the gondoliers , were now expanded , seem- ingly in twofold volumes . Energy and skill were in every stroke , and the dark spot came down the streak of light , like the ...
... once before that day been so finely developed in the race of the gondoliers , were now expanded , seem- ingly in twofold volumes . Energy and skill were in every stroke , and the dark spot came down the streak of light , like the ...
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
Acadian admiration Alnwick Castle American Annabel Lee beauty beneath breath Bryant Byron Cachuca Carmelite character charm Coleridge consider Cooper critic Dana dark death dramatist dream earth elaborate elegant Emerson England English evidence expression fact fair feel force genius George Sand give gondola grave Halleck hand hath heard heart heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW human HYPOLITO intellect JARED SPARKS Kirkland lady land Leigh Hunt light lines living Longfellow look Margaret Fuller mind Miss Fuller monomania nation Natty Bumppo nature never o'er once opinion passion peculiar poem poet poet's poetical poetry Prescott present prose quote Ralph Waldo Emerson reader remarks romance scene seems Shakspeare singular smile soul sound spirit stanza style sure sweet thee things thou thought throw tion true truth verse voice Willis woman word Wordsworth writings
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 115 - 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.
Сторінка 129 - 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.
Сторінка 84 - And marked the mild, angelic air, The rapture of repose that's there, The fixed yet tender traits that streak The languor of the placid cheek, And — but for that sad shrouded eye, That fires not, wins not, weeps not now, And but for that chill, changeless brow...
Сторінка 208 - THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them — ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.
Сторінка 126 - IT WAS many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.
Сторінка 228 - AT midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power ; In dreams, through camp and court, he bore The trophies of a conqueror ; In dreams his song of triumph heard. Then wore his monarch's signet ring, Then pressed that monarch's throne — a King ; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird.
Сторінка 231 - ... when she fears For him the joy of her young years, Thinks of thy fate, and checks her tears; And she, the mother of thy boys, Though in her eye and faded cheek Is read the grief she will not speak, The memory of her buried joys, And even she who gave thee birth, Will, by their pilgrim-circled hearth, Talk of thy doom without a sigh; For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's: One of the few, the immortal names, That were not born to die.
Сторінка 127 - For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
Сторінка 127 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we Of many far wiser than we And neither the angels in Heaven above Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
Сторінка 156 - Sound needed none, Nor any voice of joy; his spirit drank The spectacle: sensation, soul, and form, All melted into him; they swallowed up His animal being ; in them did he live, And by them did he live; they were his life. In such access of mind, in such high hour Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not; in enjoyment it expired.