The Living Authors of America: 1st ser |
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第 1 到 5 筆結果,共 25 筆
第 15 頁
We have heard some critics lay this charge to the “ three volume system , ” which
, they maintain , compels them to adopt this superfluous writing to fill up the space
; but we do not think this at all a valid reason . A careless or incomptent ...
We have heard some critics lay this charge to the “ three volume system , ” which
, they maintain , compels them to adopt this superfluous writing to fill up the space
; but we do not think this at all a valid reason . A careless or incomptent ...
第 25 頁
This , doubtless , is the reason why so many complain of the monotony of these
writers . The success of Sir Walter Scott lies in his variety ; here Cooper fails . This
tendency to one tune is a mistake , so far as the public is concerned .
This , doubtless , is the reason why so many complain of the monotony of these
writers . The success of Sir Walter Scott lies in his variety ; here Cooper fails . This
tendency to one tune is a mistake , so far as the public is concerned .
第 27 頁
Love is natural , but when this passion for an object carries us beyond reason it
becomes a monomania . Judged by this rule , Long Tom Coffin is a monomaniac
, for no rational being would destroy himself because a favorite ship was sinking .
Love is natural , but when this passion for an object carries us beyond reason it
becomes a monomania . Judged by this rule , Long Tom Coffin is a monomaniac
, for no rational being would destroy himself because a favorite ship was sinking .
第 28 頁
66 " To them that have reason to fear death . Listen ! do you hear that hollow
noise beneath ye ? ? 66 6 ' Tis the wind , driving by the vessel ! “ ' Tis the poor
thing herself , said the affected cockswain , ' giving her last groans . The water is ...
66 " To them that have reason to fear death . Listen ! do you hear that hollow
noise beneath ye ? ? 66 6 ' Tis the wind , driving by the vessel ! “ ' Tis the poor
thing herself , said the affected cockswain , ' giving her last groans . The water is ...
第 67 頁
Addison or Samuel Johnson is absurd : they may with the same reason condemn
him for being himself , instead of somebody else . It is the criticism of the fool .
Emerson certainly has a style more marked than most writers , but he has
likewise ...
Addison or Samuel Johnson is absurd : they may with the same reason condemn
him for being himself , instead of somebody else . It is the criticism of the fool .
Emerson certainly has a style more marked than most writers , but he has
likewise ...
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action admiration American appear beauty becomes better breath called carried character close comes consider critic dark death difference doubt earth effect elaborate England English evidence existence expression face fact fair feel force genius give grave hand head heard heart hope human idea illustration kind lady land leave less light lines living look manner mean mind nature never night object observe once opening opinion passed play poem poet poetical poetry present produced quote reader reason remarks rest scene seems shows side smile soul sound speak spirit strong style success sure sweet thee things thou thought throw tion told true truth turn verse voice whole writings written young
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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.