The Pathfinder

Přední strana obálky
Hurd, Houghton, 1876 - Počet stran: 543
1 Recenze
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Co říkají ostatní - Napsat recenzi

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Review: The Leatherstocking Tales, Vol. 1 (The Leatherstocking Tales #2-4)

Recenze od uživatele  - Brenda - Goodreads

currently reading The Last of the Mohicans and The Pioneers, written by James Fenimore Cooper. We visited Cooper's Cave in Glens Falls, NY last summer - a scene in Last of the Mohicans. I can't wait to discuss this book next year during American Lit. Přečíst celou recenzi

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Oblíbené pasáže

Strana 216 - Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night...
Strana 278 - It is to be all made of fantasy, All made of passion, and all made of wishes; All adoration, duty, and observance, All humbleness, all patience, and impatience, All purity, all trial, all observance; And so am I for Phebe.
Strana 90 - O that some Minstrel's harp were near, To utter notes of gladness, And chase this silence from the air, That fills my heart with sadness...
Strana 367 - ... vision with thy voice: This is our palace, — yonder is thy throne; Speak, and the floor thou tread'st on will rejoice. Not to appal me have the gods bestowed This precious boon; and blest a sad abode.
Strana 428 - There was a roaring in the wind all night; The rain came heavily and fell in floods; But now the sun is rising calm and bright; The birds are singing in the distant woods...
Strana 250 - Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Strana 109 - Kilmeny had been where the cock never crew, Where the rain never fell, and the wind never blew ; But it seemed as the harp of the sky had rung, And the airs of heaven played round her tongue, When she spake of the lovely forms she had seen, And a land where sin had never been, — A land of love and a land of light, Withouten sun or moon or night ; Where the river swa'da living stream, And the light a pure celestial beam : The land of vision it would seem, A still, an everlasting dream.
Strana 494 - tis sweet to me ! There — drink my tears, while yet they fall ; Would that my bosom's blood were balm, And, well thou know'st, I'd shed it all, To give thy brow one minute's calm.
Strana 126 - Now my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam.
Strana 30 - Before these fields were shorn and tilled, Full to the brim our rivers flowed ; The melody of waters filled The fresh and boundless wood ; And torrents dashed and rivulets played, And fountains spouted in the shade.

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