The Living Authors of America: 1st serStringer and Townsend, 1850 - 365 páginas |
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Página 52
... line , The ruby of the drop of wine , The shining pebble of the pond , Thou inscribest with a bond In thy momentary play Would bankrupt nature to repay . " A mere versifier would have made those images into a hundred lines ; the true ...
... line , The ruby of the drop of wine , The shining pebble of the pond , Thou inscribest with a bond In thy momentary play Would bankrupt nature to repay . " A mere versifier would have made those images into a hundred lines ; the true ...
Página 53
... lines , summed up his definition of true poetry . " 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 ...
... lines , summed up his definition of true poetry . " 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 ...
Página 59
... lines : Keep me nearer , me thy hearer , Singing over shrubs and vines . " Insect lover of the sun , Joy of thy dominion ; Sailor of the atmosphere ; Swimmer thro ' the waves of air ; Voyager of light and noon , Epicurean of June : Wait ...
... lines : Keep me nearer , me thy hearer , Singing over shrubs and vines . " Insect lover of the sun , Joy of thy dominion ; Sailor of the atmosphere ; Swimmer thro ' the waves of air ; Voyager of light and noon , Epicurean of June : Wait ...
Página 83
1st ser Thomas Powell. The blood still rosy in their tapering nails . A line of pearl ran through her parted lips , And ... lines further down the page . The description of the dead maiden , in the next quotation , is rather an anatomical ...
1st ser Thomas Powell. The blood still rosy in their tapering nails . A line of pearl ran through her parted lips , And ... lines further down the page . The description of the dead maiden , in the next quotation , is rather an anatomical ...
Página 84
... lines may be , their reiteration now will do more to show the difference between false and true poetry than a volume of critical analysis . " He who hath bent him o'er the dead , Ere the first day of death is fled , The first dark day ...
... lines may be , their reiteration now will do more to show the difference between false and true poetry than a volume of critical analysis . " He who hath bent him o'er the dead , Ere the first day of death is fled , The first dark day ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Acadian admiration Æschylus 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 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
Pasajes populares
Página 163 - are beating Funeral marches to the grave. ***** " Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time! " Footprints! that perhaps another, Sailing o'er Life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing shall take heart again!
Página 128 - 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.
Página 197 - 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 357 - His soul was like a star, and dwelt apart! He had a voice whose sound was like the sea, Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free ; So did he travel on life's common way, In cheerful godliness, and yet his heart The lowliest duties on itself did lay
Página 220 - eye serene The very pulse of the machine; A being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller between life and death; The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; A perfect woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command: And yet a spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light.
Página 230 - His few surviving comrades saw His smile when rang their proud hurrah, And the red field was won: Then saw in death his eyelids close, Calmly, as to a night's repose, Like flowers at set of sun. Bozzaris! with the storied brave, Greece mustered in her glory's time, Rest thee; there is no prouder grave,
Página 164 - There is a reaper whose name is Death, And with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded gram at a breath, And the flowers that grow between. * * * * " He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves, It was for the Lord of Paradise' He bound them in his sheaves.
Página 156 - Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not, in enjoyment it expired; No thanks he breathed, he proffered no request. Rapt into still communion that transcends The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him—it was blessedness and love.
Página 130 - Not the least obeisance made he; Not an instant stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, Perched above my chamber door— Perched upon a bust of Pallas Just above my chamber door— Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Página 160 - Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought, Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.