Tales of a Wayside InnTicknor and Fields, 1864 - 225页 |
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共有 14 个结果,这是第 1-5 个
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... Earl Sigvald XIX . King Olaf's War - Horns xx . Einar Tamberskelver . XXI . King Olaf's Death - drink . XXII . The Nun of Nidaros INTERLUDE . THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE . TORQUEMADA 144 149 152 156 160 • 165 169 178 1 INTERLUDE . 187 THE ...
... Earl Sigvald XIX . King Olaf's War - Horns xx . Einar Tamberskelver . XXI . King Olaf's Death - drink . XXII . The Nun of Nidaros INTERLUDE . THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE . TORQUEMADA 144 149 152 156 160 • 165 169 178 1 INTERLUDE . 187 THE ...
第80页
... For all the king's gold I will never betray thee ! " " Then why dost thou turn so pale , O churl , And then again black as the earth ? " said the Earl . More pale and more faithful Was Thora , the fairest 80 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN .
... For all the king's gold I will never betray thee ! " " Then why dost thou turn so pale , O churl , And then again black as the earth ? " said the Earl . More pale and more faithful Was Thora , the fairest 80 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN .
第81页
... But screamed and drew up his feet as he slum- bered ; The thrall in the darkness plunged with his knife , And the Earl awakened no more in this life . But wakeful and weeping Sat Thora , the fairest of 4 * THE SAGA OF KING OLAF . 81.
... But screamed and drew up his feet as he slum- bered ; The thrall in the darkness plunged with his knife , And the Earl awakened no more in this life . But wakeful and weeping Sat Thora , the fairest of 4 * THE SAGA OF KING OLAF . 81.
第99页
... earls ; Bitter as home - brewed ale were his foaming passions . Hodden - gray was the garb he wore , And by the Hammer of Thor he swore ; He hated the narrow town , and all its fashions . But he loved the freedom of his farm , His ale ...
... earls ; Bitter as home - brewed ale were his foaming passions . Hodden - gray was the garb he wore , And by the Hammer of Thor he swore ; He hated the narrow town , and all its fashions . But he loved the freedom of his farm , His ale ...
第147页
... Earl Sigvald came , Eager for spoil and fame ; Pity that such a name Stooped to such treason ! Safe under Svald at last , Now were their anchors cast , Safe from the sea and blast , Plotted the three kings ; While , with a base intent ...
... Earl Sigvald came , Eager for spoil and fame ; Pity that such a name Stooped to such treason ! Safe under Svald at last , Now were their anchors cast , Safe from the sea and blast , Plotted the three kings ; While , with a base intent ...
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常见术语和短语
Angel answered arms arrow beard beneath birds Bishop breath chamber Church cried cross dark dead Dead rides Sir death deep divine door dream Earl earth ended eyes face fair falcon fear fields fire fled gazed Give gleamed gold guest Hakon hand head hear heard heart hour Italy King Olaf land laughed leaves lifting light listened live look Lord loud morning Morten of Fogelsang never night o'er Olaf's once passed pause played prayer Queen replied rides rides Sir Morten ring Robert rose round rush sails Scald seemed ship shore silence Sing smiled song sound stand stood street strong sweet sword tale Thangbrand thee things thou thought Three Till told town turned voice walked wall watched wide wild wind wood
热门引用章节
第21页 - Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. Now he patted his horse's side...
第23页 - Revere ; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm. A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo forevermore! For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, Through all our history, to the last, In the hour of darkness and peril and need, The people will waken and listen to hear The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed, And the midnight message of Paul Revere.
第22页 - A hurry of hoofs in a village street, A shape in the moonlight; a bulk in the dark, And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet: That was all! and yet, through the gloom and the light, The fate of a nation was riding that night; And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
第23页 - So through the night rode Paul Revere ; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm, — A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo forevermore...
第212页 - SNOW-FLAKES. 00T of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow. Even as our cloudy fancies take Suddenly shape in some divine expression, Even as the troubled heart doth make In the white countenance confession, The troubled sky reveals The grief it feels.
第23页 - It was twelve by the village clock When he crossed the bridge into Medford town. He heard the crowing of the cock, And the barking of the farmer's dog, And felt the damp of the river fog, That rises after the sun goes down.
第23页 - That rises after the sun goes down. It was one by the village clock, When he galloped into Lexington. He saw the gilded weathercock Swim in the moonlight as he passed, And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare, Gaze at him with a spectral glare, As if they already stood aghast At the bloody work they would look upon. It was two by the village clock, When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
第23页 - You know the rest. In the books you have read, How the British regulars fired and fled, How the farmers gave them ball for ball, From behind each fence and farm-yard wall, Chasing the red-coats down the lane, Then crossing the fields to emerge again Under the trees at the turn of the road, And only pausing to fire and load.
第19页 - Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, Just as the moon rose over the bay, Where swinging wide at her moorings lay The Somerset, British man-of-war; A phantom ship, with each mast and spar Across the moon like a prison bar, And a huge black hulk, that was magnified By its own reflection in the tide.
第189页 - Linnet and meadow-lark and all the throng That dwell in nests and have the gift of song. You slay them all! and wherefore? for the gain Of a scant handful, more or less, of wheat Or rye or barley or some other grain, Scratched up at random by industrious feet. Searching for worm or weevil after rain! Or a few cherries that are not so sweet As are the songs these uninvited guests Sing at their feast with comfortable breasts.