The Heart of the Alleghanies; Or, Western North Carolina: Comprising Its Topography, History, Resources, People, Narratives, Incidents, and Pictures of Travel, Adventures in Hunting and Fishing and Legends of Its Wildernesses

A. Williams & Company, 1883 - 386 Seiten

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Seite 331 - Smooth to the shelving brink a copious flood Rolls fair and placid; where collected all, In one impetuous torrent, down the steep It thundering shoots, and shakes the country round.
Seite 279 - If thou art worn and hard beset With sorrows, that thou wouldst forget, If thou wouldst read a lesson, that will keep Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, Go to the woods and hills! — No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.
Seite 153 - Which through the summer is not heard or seen. As if it could not be, as if it had not been! Thus let thy power, which like the truth Of nature on my passive youth Descended, to my onward life supply Its calm, — to one who worships thee, And every form containing thee.
Seite 121 - For over all there hung a cloud of fear, A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted ! PART III.
Seite 107 - We all pearls scorn, Save what the dewy morn Congeals upon each little spire of grass, Which careless shepherds beat down as they pass: And gold ne'er here appears, Save what the yellow Ceres bears. Blest silent groves ! Oh may you be For ever Mirth's best nursery!
Seite 237 - And the steed shall be red-roan, And the lover shall be noble, With an eye that takes the breath. And the lute he plays upon Shall strike ladies into trouble, As his sword strikes men to death.
Seite 108 - He may be justly said, as the old poet said of wine, and we English say of venison, to be a generous fish; a fish that is so like the buck, that he also has his seasons; for it is observed that he comes in and goes out of season with the stag and buck. Gesner says his name is of a German offspring; and says he is a fish that feeds clean and purely, in the swiftest streams and on the hardest gravel; and that he may justly contend with all...
Seite 270 - Through mist — an heaven-sustaining bulwark reared Between the east and west ; and half the sky Was roofed with clouds of rich emblazonry, Dark purple at the zenith, which still grew Down the steep west into a wondrous hue Brighter than burning gold, even to the rent Where the swift sun yet paused in his descent Among the many-folded hills. They were Those famous Euganean hills, which bear, As seen from Lido through the harbour piles, The likeness of a clump of peaked isles.
Seite 237 - Are not the mountains, waves, and skies, a part Of me and of my soul, as I of them?
Seite 85 - Fairy's page, As merry and no taller, dances still, Nor wrinkles the smooth surface of the Fount. Here twilight is and coolness : here is moss, A soft seat, and a deep and ample shade. Thou may'st toil far and find no second tree. Drink, Pilgrim, here ; Here rest ! and if thy heart Be innocent, here too shalt thou refresh Thy Spirit, listening to some gentle sound, Or passing gale or hum of murmuring bees ! A TOMBLESS EPITAPH.

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