Selections from American Poetry: With Special Reference to Poe, Longfellow, Lowell and WhittierMargaret Sprague Carhart Macmillan, 1917 - 373 стор. |
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... Poets : Selections . Southey's Life of Nelson . Spenser's Faerie Queene , Book I. Stevenson's Kidnapped . Stevenson's The Master of Ballantrae . Stevenson's Travels with a Donkey , and An Inland Voyage . Stevenson's Treasure Island ...
... Poets : Selections . Southey's Life of Nelson . Spenser's Faerie Queene , Book I. Stevenson's Kidnapped . Stevenson's The Master of Ballantrae . Stevenson's Travels with a Donkey , and An Inland Voyage . Stevenson's Treasure Island ...
Сторінка vi
... Poet Abraham Lincoln FRANCIS SCOTT KEY : The Star - Spangled Banner JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE : The American Flag The Culprit Fay PAGE 26 28 30 33 34 35 38 39 40 44 45 46 47 49 51 58 ་་་ 59 188 61 63 FITZ - GREENE HALLECK : Marco Bozzaris On ...
... Poet Abraham Lincoln FRANCIS SCOTT KEY : The Star - Spangled Banner JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE : The American Flag The Culprit Fay PAGE 26 28 30 33 34 35 38 39 40 44 45 46 47 49 51 58 ་་་ 59 188 61 63 FITZ - GREENE HALLECK : Marco Bozzaris On ...
Сторінка ix
... poets in America have followed in the footsteps of their literary British forefathers . Puritan life was severe . It was warfare , and manual labor of a most exhausting type , and loneliness , and devo- tion to a strict sense of duty ...
... poets in America have followed in the footsteps of their literary British forefathers . Puritan life was severe . It was warfare , and manual labor of a most exhausting type , and loneliness , and devo- tion to a strict sense of duty ...
Сторінка xi
... poets in America have followed in the footsteps of their literary British forefathers . Puritan life was severe . It was warfare , and manual labor of a most exhausting type , and loneliness , and devo- tion to a strict sense of duty ...
... poets in America have followed in the footsteps of their literary British forefathers . Puritan life was severe . It was warfare , and manual labor of a most exhausting type , and loneliness , and devo- tion to a strict sense of duty ...
Сторінка xii
... poet sings his love of American nature . With them American poetry may be said to begin . The first historical event ... poetic expression of the Revolutionary period . Poetry was still a thing of the moment , an avocation , not ...
... poet sings his love of American nature . With them American poetry may be said to begin . The first historical event ... poetic expression of the Revolutionary period . Poetry was still a thing of the moment , an avocation , not ...
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Selections from American poetry, with special reference to Poe, Longfellow ... Various Обмежений попередній перегляд - 2022 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
Angel ANNABEL LEE arms band of brothers beauty bells beneath bird blue Bob-o'-link bobolink brave breast breath bright chamber door cloud Concord Hymn dark dead dear deep dream earth eyes fair Fairy feel feet flowers forest Frost Spirit comes gleams golden gray green hand hath hear heard heart heaven hills holy JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER King land laugh leaves Lenore light live look loud MAUD MULLER mighty Minnesinger never Nevermore Newbury town night o'er Persian weaves Pioneers poems poet poetry prayer purple Quoth the Raven RALPH WALDO EMERSON rhyme ring river rock round sail Sandalphon shade shadow shine shore silence sing smile snow song sorrow soul sound spring star-spangled banner stars stone sweet tears thee thet thine things thou art thought Titmouse toil trees voice water-sprites wave wild wind wings woods word youth
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Сторінка 68 - Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute...
Сторінка 70 - Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee: For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
Сторінка 85 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice Singing in Paradise : He needs must think of her once more How in the grave she lies, And with his hard rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
Сторінка 19 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Сторінка 223 - For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths — for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain ! dear father ! This arm beneath your head ! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead.
Сторінка 67 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Nameless here for evermore.
Сторінка 69 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore...
Сторінка 69 - I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea: But we loved with a love that was more than love — I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the...
Сторінка 69 - thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted — On this home by Horror haunted — tell me truly, I implore: Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore !
Сторінка 84 - Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low.