The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth LongfellowGeorge Routledge, 1867 - 452页 |
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第xiii页
... Death - Drink XXII . The Nun of Nidaros PAGE 389 390 391 392 392 394 394 395 396 396 397 Interlude 398 THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE : - Torquemada 399 Interlude 403 THE POET'S TALE : - The Birds of Killingworth . 404 FINALE 408 BIRDS OF ...
... Death - Drink XXII . The Nun of Nidaros PAGE 389 390 391 392 392 394 394 395 396 396 397 Interlude 398 THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE : - Torquemada 399 Interlude 403 THE POET'S TALE : - The Birds of Killingworth . 404 FINALE 408 BIRDS OF ...
第xvii页
... death or life ? Forester . You put your questions eagerly ! Ursula . Answer me , then ! How is the Prince ? Forester . I left him only two hours since . Tail - piece . 178 201 224 227 HIAWATHA . PAGE Hidden in the alder - bushes , LIST ...
... death or life ? Forester . You put your questions eagerly ! Ursula . Answer me , then ! How is the Prince ? Forester . I left him only two hours since . Tail - piece . 178 201 224 227 HIAWATHA . PAGE Hidden in the alder - bushes , LIST ...
第xxi页
... Death before him stand , Holding a naked sword in his right hand . Rabbi Ben Levi was a righteous man , Yet through his veins a chill of horror ran . In the convent of Drontheim , Alone in her chamber Knelt Astrid the Abbess , At ...
... Death before him stand , Holding a naked sword in his right hand . Rabbi Ben Levi was a righteous man , Yet through his veins a chill of horror ran . In the convent of Drontheim , Alone in her chamber Knelt Astrid the Abbess , At ...
第6页
... Death , with frosty hand and cold , Plucks the old man by the beard , Sorely , -- sorely ! The leaves are falling , falling , Solemnly and slow 6 VOICES OF THE NIGHT . Beleaguered City, The Midnight Mass for the Dying Year 19.
... Death , with frosty hand and cold , Plucks the old man by the beard , Sorely , -- sorely ! The leaves are falling , falling , Solemnly and slow 6 VOICES OF THE NIGHT . Beleaguered City, The Midnight Mass for the Dying Year 19.
第7页
... death's frost , Like fiery tongues at Pentecost ! Glimmer , as funeral lamps , Amid the chills and damps Of the vast plain where Death encamps ! WOODS IN WINTER . WHEN Winter winds are piercing chill VOICES OF THE NIGHT . 7 L'Envoi.
... death's frost , Like fiery tongues at Pentecost ! Glimmer , as funeral lamps , Amid the chills and damps Of the vast plain where Death encamps ! WOODS IN WINTER . WHEN Winter winds are piercing chill VOICES OF THE NIGHT . 7 L'Envoi.
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常见术语和短语
Acadian Angel answered arrows beautiful behold beneath birds breath bright Chibiabos Chispa clouds cried Dacotahs dance dark dead death dream earth Edenhall Elsie eyes face father fear Filled flowers forest Friar Gipsy Gitche Gumee gleam golden grave guests hand hast hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha Hoheneck holy Iagoo John Alden Kenabeek King Kwasind land Lara Laughing Water light listen look loud Lucifer maiden meadow Miles Standish Minnehaha Mondamin moon morning Mudjekeewis night o'er old Nokomis Osseo pass Pau-Puk-Keewis Plymouth Pray prayer Prec Prince Henry river rose round rushing sail Sandalphon sang shadows shining silent singing sleep song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spake stand Standish stars stood strong sunshine sweet Tharaw thee thou art thought unto Ursula Vict village voice wampum waves Wenonah whispered wigwam wild wind wonder words youth
热门引用章节
第4页 - 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338页 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, rejoicing, -sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
第338页 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
第162页 - In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part ; For the Gods see everywhere. Let us do our work as well, Both the unseen and the seen ; Make the house, where Gods may dwell, Beautiful, entire, and clean.
第365页 - LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventyfive ; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year. He said to his friend, "If the British march By land or sea from the town to-night, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light, — One, if by land, and two, if by sea ; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village...
第409页 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair. A whisper, and then a silence : Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting and planning together...
第4页 - Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child. "They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.
第110页 - THE day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, 'That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. Come, read to me some poem, Some...
第342页 - This was the peasant's last Good-night, A voice replied, far up the height, Excelsior ! At break of day, as heavenward The pious monks of Saint Bernard Uttered the oft-repeated prayer, A voice cried through the startled air Excelsior ! A traveller, by the faithful hound, Half-buried in the snow was found, Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device Excelsior ! There in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay, And from the sky, serene and far, A voice...
第157页 - Tis of the wave and not the rock; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore. Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.