American Classics for Seventh and Eighth Grade Reading: With Biographical Sketches, Portraits and Suggestions for StudyHoughton Mifflin, 1905 - 437 páginas |
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Página 21
... stood the Kaatskill Mountains- there ran the silver Hudson at a distance there was every hill and dale precisely as it had always been - Rip was sorely per- plexed " That flagon last night , " thought he , " has addled my poor head ...
... stood the Kaatskill Mountains- there ran the silver Hudson at a distance there was every hill and dale precisely as it had always been - Rip was sorely per- plexed " That flagon last night , " thought he , " has addled my poor head ...
Página 22
... stood in its place , with great gaping windows , some of them broken and mended with old hats and petticoats , and over the door was painted , " The Union Hotel , by Jonathan Doolittle . " Instead of the great tree that used to shelter ...
... stood in its place , with great gaping windows , some of them broken and mended with old hats and petticoats , and over the door was painted , " The Union Hotel , by Jonathan Doolittle . " Instead of the great tree that used to shelter ...
Página 27
... stood amazed , until an old woman tottering out from among the crowd , put her hand to her brow , and peering under it in his face for a moment , exclaimed , " Sure enough it is Rip Van Winkle - it is himself ! Welcome home again , old ...
... stood amazed , until an old woman tottering out from among the crowd , put her hand to her brow , and peering under it in his face for a moment , exclaimed , " Sure enough it is Rip Van Winkle - it is himself ! Welcome home again , old ...
Página 37
... stood in a rather lonely but pleasant situation , just at the foot of a woody hill , with a brook running close by , and a formidable birch - tree growing at one end of it . From hence the low murmur of his pupils ' voices , conning ...
... stood in a rather lonely but pleasant situation , just at the foot of a woody hill , with a brook running close by , and a formidable birch - tree growing at one end of it . From hence the low murmur of his pupils ' voices , conning ...
Página 47
... stood a huge bag of wool , ready to be spun ; in another , a quantity of linsey - woolsey just from the loom ; ears of Indian corn , and strings of dried apples and peaches , hung in gay festoons along the walls , mingled with the gaud ...
... stood a huge bag of wool , ready to be spun ; in another , a quantity of linsey - woolsey just from the loom ; ears of Indian corn , and strings of dried apples and peaches , hung in gay festoons along the walls , mingled with the gaud ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Acadian American ANNABEL LEE Annapolis River Basil bear beauty behold bells BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH bird character church dark death deciduous door Emerson England English Ernest Evangeline eyes farmer father forest French friends Gabriel gleamed Grand-Pré hand head heard heart heaven Henry hill House of Burgesses Ichabod Ichabod Crane Indian Israfel labor land light literary literature lived looked maiden meadows morning mountain nature neighboring never Nevermore night Nova Scotia o'er passed pine Poe's poem poet poetry prairies priest published Quoth the Raven RALPH WALDO EMERSON Raven Rip Van Winkle river rose round seemed shadow shore side silence Sir Launfal Sleepy Hollow smile song sorrow soul sound speech spirit Stone Face stood story stream sweet thee thou thought tion tonian tree trout valley village Virginia voice volume Washington wind winter wonder woods words
Pasajes populares
Página 194 - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.
Página 362 - All alone, And who tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone — They are neither man nor woman — They are neither brute nor human — They are Ghouls: And their king it is who tolls; And he rolls, rolls, rolls, Rolls A paean from the bells!
Página 175 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Página 352 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore, Nameless here for evermore.
Página 159 - Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers.
Página 357 - This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...
Página 176 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there : And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep— the dead reign there alone.
Página 129 - Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play! Who hath not learned, in hours of faith, The truth to flesh and sense unknown, That Life is ever lord of Death, And Love can never lose its own!
Página 194 - NAUTILUS This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main, — The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.
Página 26 - Rip looked and beheld a precise counterpart of himself as he went up the mountain, apparently as lazy and certainly as ragged. The poor fellow was now completely confounded. He doubted his own identity, and whether he was himself or another man. In the midst of his bewilderment, the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name. "God knows," exclaimed he, at his wit's end; "I'm not myself.