American Poems, 1776-1900: With Notes and BiographiesAmerican Book Company, 1905 - 368 стор. |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 22
Сторінка 24
... turning around , Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound . He was dressed all in fur , from his head to his foot ... turned with a jerk , And laying his finger aside of his nose , And giving a nod , up the chimney he rose ; 30 He ...
... turning around , Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound . He was dressed all in fur , from his head to his foot ... turned with a jerk , And laying his finger aside of his nose , And giving a nod , up the chimney he rose ; 30 He ...
Сторінка 44
... turned verses , and letters of travel full of personal gossip . His personal qualities , apart from his literary style , also served to increase his power over the men and women of his time . He was tall , handsome , elegant in dress ...
... turned verses , and letters of travel full of personal gossip . His personal qualities , apart from his literary style , also served to increase his power over the men and women of his time . He was tall , handsome , elegant in dress ...
Сторінка 46
... turning to the light of leaves in June , 25 And the light whisper as their edges meet- - Strange that they fill not , with their tranquil tone , The spirit , walking in their midst alone . 30 There's no contentment in a world like this ...
... turning to the light of leaves in June , 25 And the light whisper as their edges meet- - Strange that they fill not , with their tranquil tone , The spirit , walking in their midst alone . 30 There's no contentment in a world like this ...
Сторінка 79
... my morning wishes , hastily Took a few herbs and apples , and the Day Turned and departed silent . I , too late , Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn . 5 10 15 20 25 FORBEARANCE HAST thou named all the birds without a gun EMERSON 79 Days.
... my morning wishes , hastily Took a few herbs and apples , and the Day Turned and departed silent . I , too late , Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn . 5 10 15 20 25 FORBEARANCE HAST thou named all the birds without a gun EMERSON 79 Days.
Сторінка 95
... turned to the skies , The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow On his fixed and glassy eyes . Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be ; And she thought of Christ , who stilled the wave , On the Lake of ...
... turned to the skies , The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow On his fixed and glassy eyes . Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be ; And she thought of Christ , who stilled the wave , On the Lake of ...
Зміст
254 | |
261 | |
268 | |
272 | |
278 | |
287 | |
289 | |
294 | |
108 | |
115 | |
123 | |
130 | |
136 | |
159 | |
169 | |
186 | |
197 | |
205 | |
208 | |
216 | |
225 | |
231 | |
241 | |
248 | |
296 | |
303 | |
310 | |
316 | |
321 | |
322 | |
328 | |
331 | |
335 | |
339 | |
348 | |
354 | |
360 | |
363 | |
365 | |
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
American Annabel Lee Arcady Auf wiedersehen battle beauty bells Ben Bolt bird bloom blue Blynken born Boston brave breast breath bright brow bugles Burns dark dead dear death died door dream Emerson eyes fame father flowers Furl gleaming glory grace grave gray green hand hath hear heart heaven hills Joaquin Miller John Burns Joseph Rodman Drake land laugh Lay him low light lips literary lives LONG'S Lowell Maryland mother N. P. Willis never Nevermore night o'er old Kentucky home Philip Freneau pine poet Ramoth rice swamp dank sail ship shore silent sing smile snow song soul spirit stars stood sweet tears thee thet thine THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH thou thought tree Twas Virginia voice volumes of verse wait wave wild wind York York city youth ΙΟ
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 196 - MINE eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord : He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored ; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword : His truth is marching on.
Сторінка 158 - 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 196 - As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal. Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel — Since God is marching on.
Сторінка 58 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Сторінка 148 - 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 162 - Her deck once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee ; — The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea...
Сторінка 58 - Yet a few days and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image.
Сторінка 59 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
Сторінка 58 - To be a brother to the insensible rock, And, to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon.
Сторінка 164 - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.