American poems. With short biogr. notices of the most celebrated American authors1878 |
Vyhledávání v knize
Výsledky 1-5 z 19
Strana 50
... wonder of fantastic guess Their monuments , The traveller shall behold . For broken then , Like their own ugly idols , buried , burned , Their fragments spurned for every servile use , Trampled and scattered to the reckless winds , The ...
... wonder of fantastic guess Their monuments , The traveller shall behold . For broken then , Like their own ugly idols , buried , burned , Their fragments spurned for every servile use , Trampled and scattered to the reckless winds , The ...
Strana 134
... wonder , And pride arrests my sighs ; A branch from this unworthy stock Now blossoms in the skies ! Our hopes of thee were lofty , But have we cause to grieve ? Oh could our fondest , proudest wish A nobler fate conceive ? The little ...
... wonder , And pride arrests my sighs ; A branch from this unworthy stock Now blossoms in the skies ! Our hopes of thee were lofty , But have we cause to grieve ? Oh could our fondest , proudest wish A nobler fate conceive ? The little ...
Strana 143
... wonder round me rose the blue walls of the sky , A lovelier light on rock and hill and stream and wood- land lay , And softer lapsed on sunnier sands the waters of the bay . Thanksgiving to the Lord of life ! —to Him all WHITTIER . 143.
... wonder round me rose the blue walls of the sky , A lovelier light on rock and hill and stream and wood- land lay , And softer lapsed on sunnier sands the waters of the bay . Thanksgiving to the Lord of life ! —to Him all WHITTIER . 143.
Strana 145
... the pond , The bird builds in the tree , The dark pines sing on Ramoth hill The slow song of the sea . I wonder if she thinks of them , And how the old time seems , — K If ever the pines of Ramoth wood Are sounding in WHITTIER . 145.
... the pond , The bird builds in the tree , The dark pines sing on Ramoth hill The slow song of the sea . I wonder if she thinks of them , And how the old time seems , — K If ever the pines of Ramoth wood Are sounding in WHITTIER . 145.
Strana 149
... . So the day passed , and when the twilight came He woke to find the chapel all aflame , And , dumb with grateful wonder , to behold Upon the altar candlesticks of gold ! ABRAHAM DAVENPORT . IN the old days ( a custom WHITTIER . 149.
... . So the day passed , and when the twilight came He woke to find the chapel all aflame , And , dumb with grateful wonder , to behold Upon the altar candlesticks of gold ! ABRAHAM DAVENPORT . IN the old days ( a custom WHITTIER . 149.
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American Poems. with Short Biogr. Notices of the Most Celebrated American ... American Poems Náhled není k dispozici. - 2013 |
Běžně se vyskytující výrazy a sousloví
Abraham Davenport amid angels Annabel Lee Auber Azteque beauty bells beneath bird bloom Born breath bright child clouds cold Dæmon dark dead death deep door dream earth eternal evermore eyes face fair fear feet flow flowers gentle gleam glow gold gone grave green grey hand hath hear heard heart heaven hills Israfel lake land leaves Leaves of Grass light living lonely look Lord Martha Mason MEXITLIS moon morning mountain murmuring never night o'er passed pine Pleiads poems Quoth the Raven Ramoth red levin rill river round Saadi seemed shade shadows shalt shining shore sigh silent sing skies sleep smile snow song soul sound Spring stars stream strong summer sweet tell thine thou thought of thee tree voice walked Walt Whitman wandered waters wave weary wild wind wings wood
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 10 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way...
Strana 204 - And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.
Strana 281 - THERE was a child went forth every day, And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day, Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
Strana 226 - Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore: Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never — nevermore.
Strana 15 - Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulcher.
Strana 203 - IT WAS many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.
Strana 223 - 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.
Strana 16 - 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.
Strana 323 - For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck You've fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is...
Strana 216 - The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere — The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year...