Literary LikingsLothrop, Lee & Shepard, 1903 - Počet stran: 384 |
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Výsledky 1-5 z 40
Strana 11
... truth , sums up in his own person the proper relation of ideal to actual . His interest in life as fact and detail was immense , constant ; his inferences ( in his fiction ) were blithely romantic . His own sprightly genius formed the ...
... truth , sums up in his own person the proper relation of ideal to actual . His interest in life as fact and detail was immense , constant ; his inferences ( in his fiction ) were blithely romantic . His own sprightly genius formed the ...
Strana 22
... truth , might be called the dom- inant note in his essays and verse ; the ethic atmosphere never heading up in unpleasant didactic thunder - storms . To miss this quality in him is not to know the man in any saving sense . The uni ...
... truth , might be called the dom- inant note in his essays and verse ; the ethic atmosphere never heading up in unpleasant didactic thunder - storms . To miss this quality in him is not to know the man in any saving sense . The uni ...
Strana 42
... truth , this slow shift of ideal is always the condition and the measure of natural evolution into higher social life . Yet it may be that in the course of time , when reflection threatens to swamp creation , it is fitting to call a ...
... truth , this slow shift of ideal is always the condition and the measure of natural evolution into higher social life . Yet it may be that in the course of time , when reflection threatens to swamp creation , it is fitting to call a ...
Strana 43
... truth as to the royal yet popular part played by the emotions in instinctive creation will be more widely apprehended . — Yet how surely is literature , as thus ex- conditions . It is safe to say that if our DEMOCRATIC IN LITERATURE 43.
... truth as to the royal yet popular part played by the emotions in instinctive creation will be more widely apprehended . — Yet how surely is literature , as thus ex- conditions . It is safe to say that if our DEMOCRATIC IN LITERATURE 43.
Strana 53
... truth may be - nay , is- elevated into a doctrine , with the result of blinding us to relative excellencies , and putting a more developed and finer art under a cloud . Literature , one must be ever re- peating , is an art primarily and ...
... truth may be - nay , is- elevated into a doctrine , with the result of blinding us to relative excellencies , and putting a more developed and finer art under a cloud . Literature , one must be ever re- peating , is an art primarily and ...
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admiration æsthetic American Anglo-Saxon artistic ballad bard Battle of Maldon beauty Beowulf Björnson Breca British Brownell Cædmon called century character charm child creative critical Cynewulf Daudet dramatic Eadgils emotion England epic essay ethical example fact feeling fiction George Eliot German give Hartford heart Henry Howard Brownell heroes heroic historians Hrothgar human Hygd ideal idiom imagination inspiration instinct interest Irving Irving's king land language litera literary literature lyric maker matter ment mind modern mood mother native nature noble novel Old English language Old English poetry passage phrase picture play poem poet poetic prose psychologic reader realism Renaissance result Robert Louis Stevenson romance romanticism scene sense Shakespeare side song Sordello speech spirit stanzas Stevenson story strong style sure theme thing thought Time-spirit tion to-day tongue true truth types verse Washington Irving whole woman word writer
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Strana 331 - REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be ; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
Strana 196 - Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky. To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again. O blessed Bird ! the earth we pace Again appears to be An unsubstantial, faery place; That is fit home for Thee ! 1804.
Strana 263 - As the vine, which has long twined its graceful foliage about the oak, and been lifted by it into sunshine, will, when the hardy plant is rifted by the thunderbolt, cling round it with its caressing tendrils, and bind up its shattered boughs ; so...
Strana 330 - As the marsh-hen secretly builds on the watery sod, Behold I will build me a nest on the greatness of God: I will fly in the greatness of God as the marsh-hen flies In the freedom that fills all the space 'twixt the marsh and the skies: By so many roots as the marsh-grass sends in the sod I will heartily lay me a-hold on the greatness of God...
Strana 330 - INTO the woods my Master went, Clean forspent, forspent. Into the woods my Master came, Forspent with love and shame. But the olives they were not blind to Him, The little gray leaves were kind to Him: The thorn-tree had a mind to Him When into the woods He came. Out of the woods my Master went, And He was well content. Out of the woods my Master came, Content with death and shame. When Death and Shame would woo Him last, From under the trees they drew Him last : 'Twas on a tree they slew Him —...
Strana 212 - Where the bright seraphim, in burning row, Their loud uplifted angel trumpets blow, And the cherubic host, in thousand quires, Touch their immortal harps of golden wires, With those just spirits that wear victorious palms, Hymns devout and holy psalms Singing everlastingly...
Strana 196 - O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice? While I am lying on the grass Thy twofold shout I hear, From hill to hill it seems to pass, At once far off, and near. Though babbling only to the Vale, Of sunshine and of flowers, Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours. Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird...
Strana 298 - Starboard it was— and so, Like a black squall's lifting frown, Our mighty bow bore down On the iron beak of the Foe. We stood on the deck together. Men that had looked on death In battle and stormy weather; Yet a little we held our breath, When, with the hush of death, The great ships drew together. Our Captain strode to the bow, Drayton, courtly and wise, Kindly cynic, and wise {You hardly had known him now, The flame of fight in his eyes!) — His brave heart eager to feel How the oak would tell...
Strana 245 - So you creak it, and I want the heart to scold. Dear dead women, with such hair, too — what's become of all the gold Used to hang and brush their bosoms? I feel chilly and grown old.
Strana 297 - And ever, with steady con, The ship forged slowly by— And ever the crew fought on, And their cheers rang loud and high. Grand was the sight to see How by their guns they stood, Right in front of our dead, Fighting square abreast— Each brawny arm and chest All spotted with black and red, Chrism of fire and blood! Worth our watch, dull and sterile, Worth all the weary time, Worth the woe and the peril, To stand in that strait sublime!