Fireside travelsHoughton Mifflin, 1904 |
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æsthetics American ancient Anglo-Saxon Anio apoplexy asked BALTIMORE ORIOLE beautiful better birds bobolink called charm Châteaubriand Civita Vecchia dear Storg delightful dinner door doubt earth English eyes fancy feel finback whale fire foreign frittata gave genius George Sand give half hand head hear heard hills hither horses hour human Italian Italy JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL John Bull kind leave Leopoldo living look Lordship Lowell Lowell's miles mind morning mountain nature nest never night o'er once Ovid Palestrina perhaps Peter's poet Protestantism rattle remember robin Roman Rome round scudi seemed seen sense side sight silent snow soul spring Subiaco sure Tannhäuser tell thing thou thought tion Tivoli town trees turn Uncle Zeb walk whole wind wonder wood WORD FOR WINTER young
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Сторінка 348 - Shortening his journey between morn and noon, And hurrying him, impatient of his stay, Down to the rosy west; but kindly still Compensating his loss with added hours Of social converse and instructive ease, And gathering, at short notice, in one group The family dispersed, and fixing thought, Not less dispersed, by daylight and its cares. I crown thee king of intimate delights, Fireside enjoyments, homeborn happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturbed retirement, and the hours...
Сторінка 369 - And art thou nothing ? Such thou art, as when The woodman winding westward up the glen At wintry dawn, where o'er the sheep-track's maze The viewless snow-mist weaves a glist'ning haze, Sees full before him, gliding without tread, An image...
Сторінка 318 - I have no notion of selling out my shares in a panic. It was something to have advanced even to the dignity of a phenomenon, and yet I do not know that the relation of the individual American to the individual European was bettered by it; and that, after all, must adjust itself comfortably before there can be a right understanding between the two. We had been a desert, we became a museum. People came hither for scientific and not social ends. The very cockney could not complete his education without...
Сторінка 93 - It is curious, though, how tyrannical the habit of reading is, and what shifts we make to escape thinking. There is no bore we dread being left alone with so much as our own minds.
Сторінка 286 - He saddens with the season, and, as summer declines, he changes his note to eheu, pewee ! as if in lamentation. Had he been an Italian bird, Ovid would have had a plaintive tale to tell about him. He is so familiar as often to pursue a fly through the open window into my library. There is something inexpressibly dear to me in these old friendships of a lifetime. There is scarce a tree of mine but has had, at some time or other, a happy homestead among its boughs, to which I cannot say, " Many light...
Сторінка 296 - ... who would bestow an alms on these abridged editions of the Wandering Jew, the withdrawal of my quota could make no possible difference, since some destined proxy must always step forward to fill my gap. Just so many misdirected letters every year and no more ! Would it were as easy to reckon up the number of men on whose backs fate has written the wrong address, so that they arrive by mistake in Congress and other places where they do not belong! May not these wanderers of whom I speak have been...
Сторінка 314 - In a civilized country he might have been roughly handled; but here, where the bienseances are not so well understood, of course nobody minded it. A French traveller told me he had been a good deal in the British colonies, and had been astonished to see how soon the people became Americanized. He added, with delightful bonhomie, and as if he were sure it would charm me, that "they even began to talk 1.
Сторінка 131 - Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear; Yet nought but single darkness do I find. What might this be? A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.
Сторінка 345 - ... that his vein never happily flowed but from the autumnal equinox to the vernal ; and that whatever he attempted at other times was never to his satisfaction, though he courted his fancy never so much ; so that, in all the years he was about this poem, he may be said to have spent half his time therein.
Сторінка 261 - ... in the country and always on the same spot, is drawn to his book by other occult sympathies. Do we not share his indignation at that stupid Martin who had graduated his thermometer no lower than 4° above zero of Fahrenheit, so that in the coldest weather ever known the mercury basely absconded into the bulb, and left us to see the victory slip through our fingers just as they were closing upon it ? No man, I suspect, ever lived long in the country without being bitten by these meteorological...