The Living Authors of America: 1st serStringer and Townsend, 1850 - 365 頁 |
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第 6 到 10 筆結果,共 72 筆
第 32 頁
... never held any other weapon than the good sword with which I struck the infidel . grieve to add , cannot say this ! ' " And he is gone ? ' There was one lately here , that I * * * * * * " The Carmelite , who had arisen , instantly ...
... never held any other weapon than the good sword with which I struck the infidel . grieve to add , cannot say this ! ' " And he is gone ? ' There was one lately here , that I * * * * * * " The Carmelite , who had arisen , instantly ...
第 39 頁
... never his mind filled with the perfect idea of its gigantic lawlessness , till on the occasion of a review , or sham fight , during the Napoleontic war . The King had reviewed the Volunteers on Wimbledon Common one intensely sultry day ...
... never his mind filled with the perfect idea of its gigantic lawlessness , till on the occasion of a review , or sham fight , during the Napoleontic war . The King had reviewed the Volunteers on Wimbledon Common one intensely sultry day ...
第 50 頁
... never could see the justice of classing Mr. Emerson as a follower of Mr. Carlyle . We admit readily that as both write in English , and as both are great admirers of the German writers , more especially of Richter , a certain tinge of ...
... never could see the justice of classing Mr. Emerson as a follower of Mr. Carlyle . We admit readily that as both write in English , and as both are great admirers of the German writers , more especially of Richter , a certain tinge of ...
第 53 頁
... his definition of true poetry . 66 TO MERLIN . " Thy trivial harp will never please , Or fill my craving ear : Its chords should ring as blows the breeze , Free , peremptory , and clear . No jingling serenader's 3 RALPH 53 WALDO EMERSON .
... his definition of true poetry . 66 TO MERLIN . " Thy trivial harp will never please , Or fill my craving ear : Its chords should ring as blows the breeze , Free , peremptory , and clear . No jingling serenader's 3 RALPH 53 WALDO EMERSON .
第 54 頁
... never mystery , But ' tis figured in the flowers ; Was never secret history , But birds told it in the bowers . The harvest from the field , Homeward brought the oxen strong ; A second crop thine acres yield , Which I gather in a song ...
... never mystery , But ' tis figured in the flowers ; Was never secret history , But birds told it in the bowers . The harvest from the field , Homeward brought the oxen strong ; A second crop thine acres yield , Which I gather in a song ...
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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.