The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth LongfellowHoughton, Osgood, 1880 - 417页 |
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第xxxiv页
... seemed , only one American poet had . He saw that the Indian himself , as he figures in our history , was not capable of being made a poetic hero , but he saw that there might be a poetic side to him , and that it existed in his legends ...
... seemed , only one American poet had . He saw that the Indian himself , as he figures in our history , was not capable of being made a poetic hero , but he saw that there might be a poetic side to him , and that it existed in his legends ...
第8页
... seemed there , Kneeling at her evening prayer ! Like one in prayer I stood . Before me rose an avenue Of tall and sombrous pines ; Abroad their fan - like branches grew , And , where the sunshine darted through , Spread a vapour soft ...
... seemed there , Kneeling at her evening prayer ! Like one in prayer I stood . Before me rose an avenue Of tall and sombrous pines ; Abroad their fan - like branches grew , And , where the sunshine darted through , Spread a vapour soft ...
第13页
... in the groves of balm Seemed to me like an angel's psalm ! Amid the chills and damps Of the vast plain where Death en- camps ! " I was a Viking old ! My deeds , 13 Midnight Mass for the Dying Year The Slave's Dream L'Envoi.
... in the groves of balm Seemed to me like an angel's psalm ! Amid the chills and damps Of the vast plain where Death en- camps ! " I was a Viking old ! My deeds , 13 Midnight Mass for the Dying Year The Slave's Dream L'Envoi.
第14页
... seemed to rise , As when the Northern skies Gleam in December ; Ana , like the water's flow Under December's snow , Came a dull voice of woe From the heart's chamber " As with his wings aslant , Sails the fierce BALLADS The Skeleton in ...
... seemed to rise , As when the Northern skies Gleam in December ; Ana , like the water's flow Under December's snow , Came a dull voice of woe From the heart's chamber " As with his wings aslant , Sails the fierce BALLADS The Skeleton in ...
第24页
... seemed asleep in Bruges , In the quaint old Flemish city . And I thought how like these chimes Are the poet's airy rhymes , All his rhymes and roundelays , His conceits , and songs , and ditties , From the belfry of his brain ...
... seemed asleep in Bruges , In the quaint old Flemish city . And I thought how like these chimes Are the poet's airy rhymes , All his rhymes and roundelays , His conceits , and songs , and ditties , From the belfry of his brain ...
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常见术语和短语
Acadian Angel arrows Balt beautiful behold BELFRY OF BRUGES beneath birds breath bright Carlos Chibiabos Chis clouds CRUZADO Dacotahs dance dark dead death Don Carlos door dream earth Elsie Evangeline eyes face fear Filled flowers forest Friar Gipsy gleam golden Grand-Pré grave hand hast hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha HYPOLITO John Alden Kenabeek King Kwasind land Lara Laughing Water light lips listen Longfellow look loud Lucifer maiden meadow Miles Standish Mondamin Monk moon morning night o'er old Nokomis Osseo Padre passed Pau-Puk-Keewis poem poet Pray prayer Preciosa Prince Henry river rose round rushing sail Saint sang shadows shining silent singing sleep song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spake star stood sunshine sweet thee thou art thought unto Vict village voice walls wampum wandered whispered wigwam wild wind window words yonder youth
热门引用章节
第152页 - There is no Death ! what seems so is transition ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
第332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.
第xxvii页 - Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals and forts : The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
第47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.
第105页 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
第20页 - The village smithy stands ; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands.
第147页 - Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears. With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
第47页 - I SHOT an arrow into the air, It fell to earth I knew not where ; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song ! Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke ; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.
第261页 - Then the little Hiawatha Learned of every bird its language, Learned their names and all their secrets, How they built their nests in Summer, Where they hid themselves in Winter, Talked with them whene'er he met them, Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens.
第322页 - A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I remember the sea-fight far away, How it thundered o'er the tide! And the dead captains as they lay In their graves o'erlooking the tranquil bay Where they in battle died. And the sound of that mournful song Goes through me with a thrill: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.