Century Readings for a Course in American Literature1919 |
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Página 29
... sing the origin Of those fair lights which gild the firma- ment ; From whence the gale that murmurs in the pines ; 145 Why flows the stream down from the moun- tains brow And rolls the ocean lower than the land . They sing the final ...
... sing the origin Of those fair lights which gild the firma- ment ; From whence the gale that murmurs in the pines ; 145 Why flows the stream down from the moun- tains brow And rolls the ocean lower than the land . They sing the final ...
Página 47
... sing I can sing Mear , Old Hun- dred , and Bangor . - 40 JENNY . Oh ! I don't mean psalın tunes . Have you no little song to please the 45 ladies ; such as Roslin Castle , or the Maid of the Mill ? JONATHAN . Why , all my tunes go to ...
... sing I can sing Mear , Old Hun- dred , and Bangor . - 40 JENNY . Oh ! I don't mean psalın tunes . Have you no little song to please the 45 ladies ; such as Roslin Castle , or the Maid of the Mill ? JONATHAN . Why , all my tunes go to ...
Página 50
... sings to her his most en- dearing warblings . When seated together , if he espies an insect delicious to her 30 taste , he takes it up , flies with it to her , spreads his wings over her , and puts it in her mouth . ' If a rival makes ...
... sings to her his most en- dearing warblings . When seated together , if he espies an insect delicious to her 30 taste , he takes it up , flies with it to her , spreads his wings over her , and puts it in her mouth . ' If a rival makes ...
Página 65
... sing his mate to repose , attunes his pipe anew . Every now and then he spies an insect on the ground , the taste of which he is sure will please his beloved one . He drops upon it , takes 15 it in his bill , beats it against the earth ...
... sing his mate to repose , attunes his pipe anew . Every now and then he spies an insect on the ground , the taste of which he is sure will please his beloved one . He drops upon it , takes 15 it in his bill , beats it against the earth ...
Página 92
... singing Dutch and Irish songs , without understanding a word each other said , until the little Hollander was fairly swampt with his own gin and water , and 50 carried off to bed whooping and hiccup- ing , and trolling the burthen of a ...
... singing Dutch and Irish songs , without understanding a word each other said , until the little Hollander was fairly swampt with his own gin and water , and 50 carried off to bed whooping and hiccup- ing , and trolling the burthen of a ...
Contenido
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Términos y frases comunes
American Atlantic Monthly Aylmer beauty Ben Bolt beneath bird breath called Campbell dark David Swan dead death door dream earth England eyes face fancy father feel feet fire flowers give Graham's Magazine hand head hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha hills hour human Indian JESSAMY JONATHAN land laugh leaves Leaves of Grass light literary live look Lord Rawdon ment mind Miss Ophelia morning mother nature never night Nokomis o'er once passed poems poet river round sail Sandemanian seemed seen shore side silence sing sleep smile Somers song Song of Hiawatha soul spirit stood sweet tell thee thet things thou thought tion Tom Walker Topsy trees ture turned voice Vulpes whole wigwam wild wind woods words young youth Zoeterwoude
Pasajes populares
Página 324 - thing of evil — prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore, Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore!
Página 138 - Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Página 445 - In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The government will not assail you. You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors. You have no oath registered in heaven to destroy the government, while I shall have the most solemn one to "preserve, protect, and defend it.
Página 457 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.
Página 240 - 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.
Página 323 - Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore— Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;— 'Tis the wind and nothing more!
Página 136 - When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony and shroud and pall, And breathless darkness and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart...
Página 136 - 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 137 - In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone. So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure? All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Página 467 - For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths— for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead.