Modern American PoetryLouis Untermeyer Harcourt, Brace, 1921 - 406 стор. |
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Сторінка xxiii
... the manifesto of the new generation — especially in these lines : Come Muse , migrate from Greece and Ionia . Cross out , please , those immensely overpaid accounts ; That matter of Troy and Achilles ' wrath , and xxiii Preface.
... the manifesto of the new generation — especially in these lines : Come Muse , migrate from Greece and Ionia . Cross out , please , those immensely overpaid accounts ; That matter of Troy and Achilles ' wrath , and xxiii Preface.
Сторінка xxv
... lines and intensifying the power of his prose . Harte's was an influence that found its echo in the Hoosier stories of Edward Eggleston and made so vivid an impress on nineteenth - century literature . To the loose swagger of the West ...
... lines and intensifying the power of his prose . Harte's was an influence that found its echo in the Hoosier stories of Edward Eggleston and made so vivid an impress on nineteenth - century literature . To the loose swagger of the West ...
Сторінка xxix
... lines like : Was it for this our fathers kept the law ? This crown shall crown their struggle and their ruth ? Are we the eagle nation Milton saw Mewing its mighty youth ? O ye who lead Take heed ! Blindness we may xxix Preface.
... lines like : Was it for this our fathers kept the law ? This crown shall crown their struggle and their ruth ? Are we the eagle nation Milton saw Mewing its mighty youth ? O ye who lead Take heed ! Blindness we may xxix Preface.
Сторінка xxxv
... lines mark a great ad- vance . He sounds the extremes of the gamut : there are few poems in our language more violent than " To a Contemporary Bunkshooter , " few lyrics as hushed and tender as " Cool Tombs . " Like Frost , Sandburg is ...
... lines mark a great ad- vance . He sounds the extremes of the gamut : there are few poems in our language more violent than " To a Contemporary Bunkshooter , " few lyrics as hushed and tender as " Cool Tombs . " Like Frost , Sandburg is ...
Сторінка xlii
... lines , the fire of Isaiah kindles his spirit . This poetry , with its obvious re- minders of Whitman , is biblical in its inflection , Ori- ental in its heat ; it runs through forgotten centuries and brings buried Asia to busy America ...
... lines , the fire of Isaiah kindles his spirit . This poetry , with its obvious re- minders of Whitman , is biblical in its inflection , Ori- ental in its heat ; it runs through forgotten centuries and brings buried Asia to busy America ...
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Сторінка 112 - Miniver mourned the ripe renown That made so many a name so fragrant; He mourned Romance, now on the town, And Art a vagrant. Miniver loved the Medici, Albeit he had never seen one; He would have sinned incessantly Could he have been one.
Сторінка 118 - Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him: He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean favored, and imperially slim. And he was always quietly arrayed, And he was always human when he talked; But still he fluttered pulses when he said, 'Good-morning,' and he glittered when he walked.
Сторінка 48 - OUTWITTED He drew a circle that shut me out— Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But Love and I had the wit to win: We drew a circle that took him in!
Сторінка 40 - And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens, And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence; O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best, With the risin...
Сторінка xxii - I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is a...
Сторінка 45 - And his musket moulds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new, And the soldier was passing fair; And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there. "Now, don't you go till I come,
Сторінка 354 - I Have a Rendez-Vous with Death I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple blossoms fill the air — I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair. It may be he shall take my hand, And lead me into his dark land, And close my eyes and quench my breath — It may be I shall pass him still. I have a rendezvous with Death...
Сторінка 30 - Abide, abide,' The willful waterweeds held me thrall, The laving laurel turned my tide, The ferns and the fondling grass said 'Stay,' The dewberry dipped for to work delay, And the little reeds sighed 'Abide, abide, Here in the hills of Habersham, Here in the valleys of Hall.
Сторінка 51 - Here was a man to hold against the world, A man to match the mountains and the sea. The color of the ground was in him, the red earth ; The smack and tang of elemental things; The rectitude and patience of the cliff; The good-will of the rain that loves all leaves; The friendly welcome of the wayside well...
Сторінка 49 - 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. Who made him dead to rapture and despair, A thing that grieves not and that never hopes, Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?