The Living Authors of America: 1st serStringer and Townsend, 1850 - 365 頁 |
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第 6 到 10 筆結果,共 100 筆
第 50 頁
1st ser Thomas Powell. we shall venture to give our opinion on the poet and phi- losopher , and with as great a belief in our own infalli- bility as though we were the Pope , or even the editor of a Sunday newspaper . Passing over the ...
1st ser Thomas Powell. we shall venture to give our opinion on the poet and phi- losopher , and with as great a belief in our own infalli- bility as though we were the Pope , or even the editor of a Sunday newspaper . Passing over the ...
第 51 頁
... poet breaks through , in the metaphorical language of passion , " the keys of this breast . " How directly the ... poet as well as mere meta- physician ; but as the fine old poet of Rydal says , many revelations come on us in snatches ...
... poet breaks through , in the metaphorical language of passion , " the keys of this breast . " How directly the ... poet as well as mere meta- physician ; but as the fine old poet of Rydal says , many revelations come on us in snatches ...
第 52 頁
... poet condenses ; the elegant writer diffuses , till it becomes an atmosphere rather than a world . The conclusion of this beautiful string of suggestive ques- tionings and half - answered doubts is very fine . " All that's good and ...
... poet condenses ; the elegant writer diffuses , till it becomes an atmosphere rather than a world . The conclusion of this beautiful string of suggestive ques- tionings and half - answered doubts is very fine . " All that's good and ...
第 54 頁
... poet , is deficient . Mr. Emerson's power has not its foundation in the human heart : the roots of his being are in the intellect . Conse- quently he is deficient in one of the two great elements of genius . That this narrows his scope ...
... poet , is deficient . Mr. Emerson's power has not its foundation in the human heart : the roots of his being are in the intellect . Conse- quently he is deficient in one of the two great elements of genius . That this narrows his scope ...
第 55 頁
... poet who has so com- pletely failed in awaking one tender memory . We shall take advantage of this circumstance to contrast several poets under the same inspiration , and mark how dif- ferent are all their moods . Nevertheless , all ...
... poet who has so com- pletely failed in awaking one tender memory . We shall take advantage of this circumstance to contrast several poets under the same inspiration , and mark how dif- ferent are all their moods . Nevertheless , all ...
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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 127 頁 - The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me Yes! that was the reason (as all men know. In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night. Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
第 114 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 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 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 129 頁 - That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door; Darkness there and nothing more.
第 194 頁 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder shower ; and now The arena swims around him : he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
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 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 159 頁 - 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. 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 128 頁 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and. curious volume of forgotten lore — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " "Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.