The Living Authors of America: 1st serStringer and Townsend, 1850 - 365 頁 |
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第 1 到 5 筆結果,共 24 筆
第 28 頁
... close to the side of Tom , with that sort of selfish feeling that makes even hopeless misery more tolerable , when endured in participation with another . " When the tide falls , ' he said in a voice that betrayed the agony of fear ...
... close to the side of Tom , with that sort of selfish feeling that makes even hopeless misery more tolerable , when endured in participation with another . " When the tide falls , ' he said in a voice that betrayed the agony of fear ...
第 53 頁
1st ser Thomas Powell. " All that's good and great with thee Works in close conspiracy ; Thou hast bribed the dark and lonely To report thy features only , And the cold and purple morning , Itself with thoughts of thee adorning : The ...
1st ser Thomas Powell. " All that's good and great with thee Works in close conspiracy ; Thou hast bribed the dark and lonely To report thy features only , And the cold and purple morning , Itself with thoughts of thee adorning : The ...
第 58 頁
... Close at my side as in the times gone by . Once more his little feet With my long steps compete , I walk along , nor turn aside mine eye . " And now a mist of light Grows stronger in my sight , Shaping itself into a form most dear ...
... Close at my side as in the times gone by . Once more his little feet With my long steps compete , I walk along , nor turn aside mine eye . " And now a mist of light Grows stronger in my sight , Shaping itself into a form most dear ...
第 79 頁
... close - judging critic , and all personal considerations are lost upon it . Appeals to feeling are unknown ; it is the Rhada- manthus of authors . The present race , on the other hand , are too apt to overlook the solid merits of a work ...
... close - judging critic , and all personal considerations are lost upon it . Appeals to feeling are unknown ; it is the Rhada- manthus of authors . The present race , on the other hand , are too apt to overlook the solid merits of a work ...
第 83 頁
... close this attempt to diminish into mere prettiness the sublime simplicity of this gospel nar- rative . We need hardly point out , to the most casual reader , the singular taste which has dictated the selection of the images and ...
... close this attempt to diminish into mere prettiness the sublime simplicity of this gospel nar- rative . We need hardly point out , to the most casual reader , the singular taste which has dictated the selection of the images and ...
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Acadian admiration Alnwick Castle American Annabel Lee beauty beneath breath Bryant Byron Cachuca Carmelite character charm Coleridge consider Cooper critic Dana dark death dramatist dream earth elaborate elegant Emerson England English evidence expression fact fair feel force genius George Sand give gondola grave Halleck hand hath heard heart heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW human HYPOLITO intellect JARED SPARKS Kirkland lady land Leigh Hunt light lines living Longfellow look Margaret Fuller mind Miss Fuller monomania nation Natty Bumppo nature never o'er once opinion passion peculiar poem poet poet's poetical poetry Prescott present prose quote Ralph Waldo Emerson reader remarks romance scene seems Shakspeare singular smile soul sound spirit stanza style sure sweet thee things thou thought throw tion true truth verse voice Willis woman word Wordsworth writings
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第 115 頁 - TO HELEN. Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
第 129 頁 - But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door; Darkness there and nothing more.
第 84 頁 - And marked the mild, angelic air, The rapture of repose that's there, The fixed yet tender traits that streak The languor of the placid cheek, And — but for that sad shrouded eye, That fires not, wins not, weeps not now, And but for that chill, changeless brow...
第 208 頁 - THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them — ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.
第 126 頁 - 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.
第 228 頁 - AT midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power ; In dreams, through camp and court, he bore The trophies of a conqueror ; In dreams his song of triumph heard. Then wore his monarch's signet ring, Then pressed that monarch's throne — a King ; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird.
第 231 頁 - ... when she fears For him the joy of her young years, Thinks of thy fate, and checks her tears; And she, the mother of thy boys, Though in her eye and faded cheek Is read the grief she will not speak, The memory of her buried joys, And even she who gave thee birth, Will, by their pilgrim-circled hearth, Talk of thy doom without a sigh; For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's: One of the few, the immortal names, That were not born to die.
第 127 頁 - For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
第 127 頁 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we Of many far wiser than we And neither the angels in Heaven above Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
第 156 頁 - Sound needed none, Nor any voice of joy; his spirit drank The spectacle: sensation, soul, and form, All melted into him; they swallowed up His animal being ; in them did he live, And by them did he live; they were his life. In such access of mind, in such high hour Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not; in enjoyment it expired.