Makers of American Literature: A Class-book on American LiteratureNeale publishing Company, 1908 - 410 oldal |
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admiration Ameri American literature ANNABEL LEE appeared artistic beauty biography Bob-o'-link Bryant called character charm chee Cooper critics death distinction early Emerson England English literature essays eyes fame famous fancy father feel fiction Franklin genius Hawthorne Hawthorne's heart historian Holmes Holmes's humor imagination inspiration interest Irving Irving's James Russell Lowell lack Lanier Leaves of Grass letters literary living Longfellow Lowell Lowell's Marble Faun marshes of Glynn moral nature never Nevermore night novel o'er passed passion perhaps Pioneers Poe's poem poet poet's poetic poetry popular possessed Prescott prose published Puritan Raven reader reputation romance Scarlet Letter Sir Launfal song soul spirit story style success sure taste thee theme thou thought tion tree ture Twice-told Tales Ulalume verse volume Washington Irving Whitman Whittier word writing wrote young
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246. oldal - 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.
127. oldal - Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store — Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore — Till the dirges of his hope the melancholy burden bore Of 'Never — nevermore.
245. oldal - Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
404. oldal - 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. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is...
399. oldal - Limitless out of the dusk, out of the cedars and pines. Sing on dearest brother, warble your reedy song, Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.
120. oldal - In the whole composition there should be no word written of which the tendency, direct or indirect, is not to the one preestablished design.
131. oldal - The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere — The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year...
213. oldal - By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world.
138. oldal - On! on!"— but o'er the Past (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast! For, alas! alas! with me The light of Life is o'er! "No more — no more...
346. oldal - Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.