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 56
... green sod with those of her gallant and patriotic sons . I go from this place under the hope that we shall , mutually , consign to perpetual oblivion whatever personal collisions may at any time unfortunately have occurred between us ...
... green sod with those of her gallant and patriotic sons . I go from this place under the hope that we shall , mutually , consign to perpetual oblivion whatever personal collisions may at any time unfortunately have occurred between us ...
Seite 59
... green pine and hemlock , together with a thousand various trees and shrubs , of a thousand varied tints , all mingled in one rich , inex- pressibly rich garment , with which Nature seemed desirous of hiding her faded beauties and ...
... green pine and hemlock , together with a thousand various trees and shrubs , of a thousand varied tints , all mingled in one rich , inex- pressibly rich garment , with which Nature seemed desirous of hiding her faded beauties and ...
Seite 71
... Green River , in Kentucky , I repeatedly visited . It was , as is always the case , in a portion of the forest where the trees were of great magnitude , and where there was little underwood . I rode through it upwards of forty miles ...
... Green River , in Kentucky , I repeatedly visited . It was , as is always the case , in a portion of the forest where the trees were of great magnitude , and where there was little underwood . I rode through it upwards of forty miles ...
Seite 101
... green glassy eyes , and a long snipe nose , so that it looked like a weather- cock , perched upon his spindle neck , to tell which way the wind blew . To see him striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day , with his clothes ...
... green glassy eyes , and a long snipe nose , so that it looked like a weather- cock , perched upon his spindle neck , to tell which way the wind blew . To see him striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day , with his clothes ...
Seite 103
... green eyes over the fat meadow lands , the rich fields of wheat , of rye , of buckwheat , and Indian corn , and the orchards burdened with ruddy fruit , which surrounded the warm tenement of Van Tas- sel , his heart yearned after the ...
... green eyes over the fat meadow lands , the rich fields of wheat , of rye , of buckwheat , and Indian corn , and the orchards burdened with ruddy fruit , which surrounded the warm tenement of Van Tas- sel , his heart yearned after the ...
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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.