The Longfellow Birthday-bookHoughton, Mifflin and Company, 1882 - 398 oldal |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 23 találatból.
365. oldal
... Euroclydon , The storm - wind ! Howl ! howl ! and from the forest Sweep the red leaves away ! Would , the sins that thou abhorrest , O Soul ! could thus decay , And be swept away ! ---- - For what is Time ? The shadow on 365 December .
... Euroclydon , The storm - wind ! Howl ! howl ! and from the forest Sweep the red leaves away ! Would , the sins that thou abhorrest , O Soul ! could thus decay , And be swept away ! ---- - For what is Time ? The shadow on 365 December .
367. oldal
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Anna Comnena , 1083 ; Keill , 1671 ; Karamskin , 1766 . DECEMBER 2 . Dom Pedro II . , 1825 A dreary , weary life it would have been , 367 DECEMBER I.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Anna Comnena , 1083 ; Keill , 1671 ; Karamskin , 1766 . DECEMBER 2 . Dom Pedro II . , 1825 A dreary , weary life it would have been , 367 DECEMBER I.
368. oldal
... DECEMBER 4 . Hooded and wrapped about with that strange and antique garb , there walks a kingly , a most royal soul , even as the Emperor Charles walked amid solemn cloisters under a monk's cowl -a monarch still in soul . I am a reader ...
... DECEMBER 4 . Hooded and wrapped about with that strange and antique garb , there walks a kingly , a most royal soul , even as the Emperor Charles walked amid solemn cloisters under a monk's cowl -a monarch still in soul . I am a reader ...
369. oldal
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Pulci , 1431 ; Robert Bloomfield , 1766 ; Conscience , 1812 . DECEMBER 4 . Mary Mitford , 1786 ; Thomas Carlyle , 1795 . He only is utterly wretched who is the slave of 3 € 9 DECEMBER 3 .
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Pulci , 1431 ; Robert Bloomfield , 1766 ; Conscience , 1812 . DECEMBER 4 . Mary Mitford , 1786 ; Thomas Carlyle , 1795 . He only is utterly wretched who is the slave of 3 € 9 DECEMBER 3 .
370. oldal
... DECEMBER 6 . - She made the heroic sacrifice of self , leaving her sorrow to the great physician , Time , — the nurse of care , the healer of all smarts , the soother and con- soler of all ... DECEMBER 6 . Caroline B. 370 DECEMBER 5 .
... DECEMBER 6 . - She made the heroic sacrifice of self , leaving her sorrow to the great physician , Time , — the nurse of care , the healer of all smarts , the soother and con- soler of all ... DECEMBER 6 . Caroline B. 370 DECEMBER 5 .
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
angel APRIL APRIL 24 AUGUST beautiful birds blossoms breath bright clouds COURTSHIP OF MILES dark dead death DECEMBER delight DIVINE TRAGEDY dream DRIFT-WOOD earth EMMA AND EGINHARD England Tragedies EVANGELINE eyes fate FEBRUARY FEBRUARY 20 feeling Flemming flowers friends gleams GOLDEN Legend hand hath heart heaven HIAWATHA holy human HYPERION INTERLUDE JANUARY JANUARY 24 JOHN ENDICOTT JULY JUNE JUNE 24 KAVANAGH KÉRAMOS land leaves light living look MARCH MARCH 26 MASQUE OF PANDORA MILES STANDISH mist moon morning mysterious never night NOVEMBER NOVEMBER 24 o'er OCTOBER OCTOBER 14 OUTRE-MER Paul Flemming poet PRELUDE rain river seemed SEPTEMBER SEPTEMBER 16 SEPTEMBER 24 shadows shine silent singing sleep snow soft song sorrow soul sound SPANISH STUDENT stars strong summer sunshine sweet thee things Thou hast thought toil trees unto voice Wayside Wayside Inn weary wind words youth
Népszerű szakaszok
390. oldal - I SHOT an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, 1 knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong.
344. oldal - THE DAY IS DONE. THE day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist : A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
220. oldal - I remember the gleams and glooms that dart Across the school-boy's brain ; The song and the silence in the heart, That in part are prophecies, and in part Are longings wild and vain. And the voice of that fitful song Sings on, and is never still : "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.
8. oldal - Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
118. oldal - So through the night rode Paul Revere ; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm, — A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo for evermore...
122. oldal - Where they in battle died. And the sound of that mournful song Goes through me with a thrill: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.
335. oldal - THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.
388. oldal - Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining ; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
136. oldal - Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these? Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught The dialect they speak, where melodies Alone are the interpreters of thought? Whose household words are songs in many keys, Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught! Whose habitations in the tree-tops even Are half-way houses on the road to heaven!
328. oldal - A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." Strange to me now are the forms I meet When I visit the dear old town; But the native air is pure and sweet, And the trees that o'ershadow each well-known street, As they balance up and down, Are singing the beautiful song, Are sighing and whispering still: "A boy's will is the wind's will, 80 And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.