The Living Authors of America: 1st ser |
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第 1 到 5 筆結果,共 15 筆
第 17 頁
fisherman , we are fully convinced the romance is of first - rate pretensions ; but it
dwindles as it progresses into a mere improbability , which irritates the more in
proportion to the force and beauty of the opening scenes . Still , in these attempts
...
fisherman , we are fully convinced the romance is of first - rate pretensions ; but it
dwindles as it progresses into a mere improbability , which irritates the more in
proportion to the force and beauty of the opening scenes . Still , in these attempts
...
第 23 頁
... To him are opening Paradise . ” The true secret of delight lies in the
antagonism of Human Nature . The artificial creates a love for the natural , its
opposite ; just as men love women - strength loves fragility — fragility yearns for
strength — the ...
... To him are opening Paradise . ” The true secret of delight lies in the
antagonism of Human Nature . The artificial creates a love for the natural , its
opposite ; just as men love women - strength loves fragility — fragility yearns for
strength — the ...
第 71 頁
A strange process , too , this by which experience is converted into thought as a
mulberry leaf is converted into satin . The manufacture goes forward at all hours .
" Mark the more than morning glow thrown over the opening of " the Address .
A strange process , too , this by which experience is converted into thought as a
mulberry leaf is converted into satin . The manufacture goes forward at all hours .
" Mark the more than morning glow thrown over the opening of " the Address .
第 85 頁
The following opening to his poem entitled “ Rizpah with her Sons , ” is not open
to our former objections . We dare say , however , that many will consider our
former quotations the best poetry ; and we fear that the poet has himself been ...
The following opening to his poem entitled “ Rizpah with her Sons , ” is not open
to our former objections . We dare say , however , that many will consider our
former quotations the best poetry ; and we fear that the poet has himself been ...
第 135 頁
The opening sketch of the tranquil lives of the French Acadians , on the Gulf of
Minas , is truly idyllic ; but the peculiarity of the measure to which the English
language is so little adaptedrenders it HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW .
The opening sketch of the tranquil lives of the French Acadians , on the Gulf of
Minas , is truly idyllic ; but the peculiarity of the measure to which the English
language is so little adaptedrenders it HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW .
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第 163 頁 - are beating Funeral marches to the grave. ***** " Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time! " Footprints! that perhaps another, Sailing o'er Life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing shall take heart again!
第 128 頁 - 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.
第 197 頁 - 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.
第 357 頁 - His soul was like a star, and dwelt apart! He had a voice whose sound was like the sea, Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free ; So did he travel on life's common way, In cheerful godliness, and yet his heart The lowliest duties on itself did lay
第 220 頁 - eye serene The very pulse of the machine; A being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller between life and death; The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command: And yet a spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light.
第 230 頁 - His few surviving comrades saw His smile when rang their proud hurrah, And the red field was won: Then saw in death his eyelids close, Calmly, as to a night's repose, Like flowers at set of sun. Bozzaris! with the storied brave, Greece mustered in her glory's time, Rest thee; there is no prouder grave,
第 164 頁 - There is a reaper whose name is Death, And with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded gram at a breath, And the flowers that grow between. * * * * " He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves, It was for the Lord of Paradise' He bound them in his sheaves.
第 156 頁 - Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not, in enjoyment it expired; No thanks he breathed, he proffered no request. Rapt into still communion that transcends The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him—it was blessedness and love.
第 130 頁 - Not the least obeisance made he; Not an instant stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, Perched above my chamber door— Perched upon a bust of Pallas Just above my chamber door— Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
第 160 頁 - Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought, Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.