The Living Authors of America: 1st serStringer and Townsend, 1850 - 365 Seiten |
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Seite 148
... HYPOLITO . " Hast thou e'er reflected How much lies hidden in that one word , now ? 66 VICTORIAN . " Yes ; all the awful mystery of Life ! I oft have thought , my dear Hypolito , That could we , by some spell of magic , change The world ...
... HYPOLITO . " Hast thou e'er reflected How much lies hidden in that one word , now ? 66 VICTORIAN . " Yes ; all the awful mystery of Life ! I oft have thought , my dear Hypolito , That could we , by some spell of magic , change The world ...
Seite 150
... Hypolito , it is in vain I throw into oblivion's sea the sword That pierces me : for like Excalibar , With gemmed and flashing hilt , it will not sink . There rises from below a hand that grasps it , And waves it in the air , and ...
... Hypolito , it is in vain I throw into oblivion's sea the sword That pierces me : for like Excalibar , With gemmed and flashing hilt , it will not sink . There rises from below a hand that grasps it , And waves it in the air , and ...
Seite 151
... HYPOLITO . " We shall all be soon . 66 VICTORIAN . " It cannot be too soon ; for I am weary Of the bewildering masquerade of Life , Where strangers walk as friends , and friends as strangers ; Where whispers overheard betray false ...
... HYPOLITO . " We shall all be soon . 66 VICTORIAN . " It cannot be too soon ; for I am weary Of the bewildering masquerade of Life , Where strangers walk as friends , and friends as strangers ; Where whispers overheard betray false ...
Seite 152
... HYPOLITO . " Yet thou shalt not perish . The strength of thine own arm is thy salvation . Above thy head , through rifted clouds , there shines A glorious star . Be patient . Trust thy star ! ( Sound of a village bell in the distance ...
... HYPOLITO . " Yet thou shalt not perish . The strength of thine own arm is thy salvation . Above thy head , through rifted clouds , there shines A glorious star . Be patient . Trust thy star ! ( Sound of a village bell in the distance ...
Seite 153
... HYPOLITO . " Amen ! amen ! Not half a league from hence The village lies . 66 VICTORIAN . " This path will lead us to it , Over the wheat - fields , where the shadows sail Across the running sea , now green , now blue , And , like an ...
... HYPOLITO . " Amen ! amen ! Not half a league from hence The village lies . 66 VICTORIAN . " This path will lead us to it , Over the wheat - fields , where the shadows sail Across the running sea , now green , now blue , And , like an ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Acadian admiration Alnwick Castle American Annabel Lee beauty beneath breath Bryant Byron Cachuca Carmelite character charm Coleridge consider Cooper critic Dana dark death dramatist dream earth elaborate elegant Emerson England English evidence expression fact fair feel force genius George Sand give gondola grave Halleck hand hath heard heart heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW human HYPOLITO intellect JARED SPARKS Kirkland lady land Leigh Hunt light lines living Longfellow look Margaret Fuller mind Miss Fuller monomania nation Natty Bumppo nature never o'er once opinion passion peculiar poem poet poet's poetical poetry Prescott present prose quote Ralph Waldo Emerson reader remarks romance scene seems Shakspeare singular smile soul sound spirit stanza style sure sweet thee things thou thought throw tion true truth verse voice Willis woman word Wordsworth writings
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 130 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,— " Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore !" Quoth the Raven,
Seite 127 - The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me Yes! that was the reason (as all men know. In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night. Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
Seite 208 - THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them — ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.
Seite 129 - But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door; Darkness there and nothing more.
Seite 128 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of, forgotten lore, — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door: Only this and nothing more.
Seite 84 - And marked the mild, angelic air, The rapture of repose that's there, The fixed yet tender traits that streak The languor of the placid cheek, And — but for that sad shrouded eye, That fires not, wins not, weeps not now, And but for that chill, changeless brow...
Seite 194 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder shower ; and now The arena swims around him : he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Seite 219 - A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows , simple wiles , Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Seite 127 - 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: For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
Seite 159 - The village smithy stands ; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.