The Poetical Works: Including the Drama of "The Two Men of Sandy Bar" of Bret Harte

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Houghton, Mifflin & Company, 1882 - 448 стор.

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Сторінка 274 - Thus I pacified Psyche, and kissed her, And tempted her out of her gloom, — • And conquered her scruples and gloom: And we passed to the end of the vista, But were stopped by the door of a tomb — By the door of a legended tomb; And I said, "What is written, sweet sister, On the door of this legended tomb?
Сторінка 22 - 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 161 - Well, yes, — if you saw us out driving Each day in the park, four-in-hand ; If you saw poor dear mamma contriving To look supernaturally grand, — If you saw papa's picture, as taken By Brady, and tinted at that, You 'd never suspect he sold bacon And flour at Poverty Flat.
Сторінка 17 - DOWN the picket-guarded lane Rolled the comfort-laden wain, Cheered by shouts that shook the plain, Soldier-like and merry : Phrases such as camps may teach, Sabre-cuts of Saxon speech, Such as " Bully ! " " Them's the peach !" "Wade in, Sanitary!" Right and left the caissons drew As the car went lumbering through, Quick succeeding in review Squadrons military ; Sunburnt men with beards like frieze, Smooth-faced boys, and cries like these, — "US San. Com.
Сторінка 133 - In the scene that ensued I did not take a hand ; But the floor it was strewed Like the leaves on the strand With the cards that Ah Sin had been hiding, In the game "he did not understand.
Сторінка 160 - I've broken; I left in the midst of a set ; Likewise a proposal, half spoken, That waits — on the stairs — for me yet. They say he'll be rich, — when he grows up, And then he adores me indeed; And you, sir, are turning your nose up, Three thousand miles off, as you read. "And how do I like my position?" "And what do I think of New York?
Сторінка 76 - Day by day on wall and bastion beat the hollow empty breeze, — Day by day the sunlight glittered on the vacant, smiling seas; Week by week the near hills whitened in their dusty leather cloaks, — Week by week the far hills darkened from the fringing plain of oaks; Till the rains came, and far-breaking, on the fierce southwester tost, Dashed the whole long coast with color, and then vanished and were lost.
Сторінка 13 - Looking down the village street, Where, in the shade of his peaceful vine, He heard the low of his gathered kine, And felt their breath with incense sweet Or I might say, when the sunset burned The old farm gable, he thought it turned The milk that fell like a babbling flood Into the milk-pail red as blood!
Сторінка 194 - ... plantigrade, Be thy courses undismayed ! Here, where Nature makes thy bed, Let thy rude, half-human tread Point to hidden Indian springs, Lost in ferns and fragrant grasses, Hovered o'er by timid wings, Where the wood-duck lightly passes, Where the wild bee holds her sweets, — Epicurean retreats, Fit for thee, and better than Fearful spoils of dangerous man. In thy fat-jowled deviltry Friar Tuck shall live in thee ; Thou...
Сторінка 105 - And all along the coast that year, Votive candles were scarce and dear. Never a tear bedims the eye That time and patience will not dry; Never a lip is curved with pain That can't be kissed into smiles again.

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