The Living Authors of America: 1st ser |
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Page 64
... once his floor - his work - yard — his play- ground - his garden - and his bed . " We know of few books more full of suggestions than Mr. Emerson's , and we could desire no pleasanter occupation 64 EMERSON . RALPH WALDO.
... once his floor - his work - yard — his play- ground - his garden - and his bed . " We know of few books more full of suggestions than Mr. Emerson's , and we could desire no pleasanter occupation 64 EMERSON . RALPH WALDO.
Page 88
... play , And persuade myself that I am not old , And my locks are not yet grey . " For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart , And makes his pulses fly , To catch the thrill of a happy voice , And 88 PARKER WILLIS . NATHANIEL.
... play , And persuade myself that I am not old , And my locks are not yet grey . " For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart , And makes his pulses fly , To catch the thrill of a happy voice , And 88 PARKER WILLIS . NATHANIEL.
Page 89
... Play on , play on , I am with you there , In the midst of your merry ring , I can feel the thrill of the daring jump , And the rush of the breathless swing . " I hide with you in the fragrant hay , And I whoop the smothered call , And ...
... Play on , play on , I am with you there , In the midst of your merry ring , I can feel the thrill of the daring jump , And the rush of the breathless swing . " I hide with you in the fragrant hay , And I whoop the smothered call , And ...
Page 94
... play in the pauses , And nobody very near . Or a seat on a silken sofa , With a glass of pure old wine , And mamma too blind to discover The small white hand in mine . Your love in a cottage is hungry , Your vine is a nest for flies ...
... play in the pauses , And nobody very near . Or a seat on a silken sofa , With a glass of pure old wine , And mamma too blind to discover The small white hand in mine . Your love in a cottage is hungry , Your vine is a nest for flies ...
Page 97
... play upon words , we do not recognise any of those strokes of humor and unexpected contrasts which render Byron so ... plays have not retained possession of the stage , he adds one more to that long list of writers who have NATHANIEL 97 ...
... play upon words , we do not recognise any of those strokes of humor and unexpected contrasts which render Byron so ... plays have not retained possession of the stage , he adds one more to that long list of writers who have NATHANIEL 97 ...
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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
Popular passages
Page 130 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,— " Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore !" Quoth the Raven,
Page 127 - 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.
Page 208 - 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.
Page 129 - 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.
Page 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.
Page 84 - 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...
Page 194 - 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.
Page 219 - A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows , simple wiles , Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Page 127 - 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: For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
Page 159 - 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.