A Hand-book of English Literature: Intended for the Use of High Schools, as Well as a Companion and Guide for Private Students, and for General Readers. American AuthorsLee and Shepard, 1889 - 608 Seiten |
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Seite xix
... Wind- sor , Conn . , in 1703 , graduated at Yale College , and settled as preacher in Northampton , Mass . He was an original metaphysician , equal in sustained power and in clear - sightedness to any modern investi- gator . His works ...
... Wind- sor , Conn . , in 1703 , graduated at Yale College , and settled as preacher in Northampton , Mass . He was an original metaphysician , equal in sustained power and in clear - sightedness to any modern investi- gator . His works ...
Seite 36
... wind of the cannon - ball that smashes John Bull's brains out will lay us on our backs , with all our tinsel honors in the dirt . Therefore I think I may , and feel that I must , return to European affairs . Two obstacles , and only two ...
... wind of the cannon - ball that smashes John Bull's brains out will lay us on our backs , with all our tinsel honors in the dirt . Therefore I think I may , and feel that I must , return to European affairs . Two obstacles , and only two ...
Seite 38
... wind , but could not prevent its blowing . Now , though argument will never turn the weathercock , it may prove how it points . That power which your adversary can use in spite of you is checked by your efforts . If he exerts all his ...
... wind , but could not prevent its blowing . Now , though argument will never turn the weathercock , it may prove how it points . That power which your adversary can use in spite of you is checked by your efforts . If he exerts all his ...
Seite 64
... vale , And skimming now the plain ; " Then , catching with a sudden glance , The bright and silver - clear expanse Of some broad river's stream , Behold the boats adown it glide , And motion wind 64 HAND - BOOK OF AMERICAN AUTHORS .
... vale , And skimming now the plain ; " Then , catching with a sudden glance , The bright and silver - clear expanse Of some broad river's stream , Behold the boats adown it glide , And motion wind 64 HAND - BOOK OF AMERICAN AUTHORS .
Seite 65
... wind again the tide , Where , chained in ice , by winter's pride , Late rolled the heavy team ; " Or , lured by some fresh - scented gale , That wooed the mooréd fisher's sail To tempt the mighty main , Hast watched the dim , receding ...
... wind again the tide , Where , chained in ice , by winter's pride , Late rolled the heavy team ; " Or , lured by some fresh - scented gale , That wooed the mooréd fisher's sail To tempt the mighty main , Hast watched the dim , receding ...
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Ali Pacha American appeared Atlantic Monthly beauty beneath birds born Boston breath bright character cloud dark David Swan deep delight dream Ducklow earth England entitled eyes father feeling feet fire flowers forever genius give golden green hand Harvard College heart heaven hills hour human Iliad JAMES THOMAS FIELDS JOHN Josiah Quincy labor land light literary literature living look Margaret Fuller meerschaum mind Miscellaneous Writer moral morning mountains nation nature never Nevermore night North American Review o'er passed poems Poet poetry published river round scene seemed Shakespeare shore silent song soul sound spirit story style summer sweet taste thee Theologian things thou thought tion trees voice volume waves whole wild WILLIAM wind woods words Yale College young youth
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Seite 134 - 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.
Seite 357 - The hills Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun; the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods, rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.
Seite 264 - TELL me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal : Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Seite 136 - The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Seite 345 - Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee— by these angels he hath sent thee Respite— respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!
Seite 590 - On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
Seite 263 - Were half the power, that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth, bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals nor forts: The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
Seite 448 - 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.
Seite 135 - 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.
Seite 136 - Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those, who in their turn shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.