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afterwards Alcott appear asked beauty born Boston brother called Channing church concerning Concord course DEAR death died early Emerson England essay eyes farm farmer father feel field gave give Graham's Magazine Greeley hand Hawthorne hear heard Henry Hosmer hundred John kind knew known later leave lecture less letter lived look magazine Maine March married miles mind Miss months mother Nature never night once passed perhaps person poet present printed published Quaker received returned Ripley river road says seems seen sent side soon spirit talk things Thoreau thou thought tion told took town trees turned verses village Walden walk Webster Week wish woods write written wrote young
316. oldal - Flattered to tears this aged man and poor; But no - already had his deathbell rung: The joys of all his life were said and sung: His was harsh penance on St Agnes
269. oldal - But now he's gone aloft. Tom never from his word departed, His virtues were so rare; His friends were many and true-hearted, His Poll was kind and fair: And then he'd sing so blithe and jolly; Ah, many's the time and oft! But mirth is turned to melancholy, For Tom is gone aloft.
146. oldal - This is a good man ; here is nothing for me;" but when his master came to the prayer of the publican, " God be merciful to me a sinner...
213. oldal - My purpose in going to Walden Pond was not to live cheaply nor to live dearly there, but to transact some private business with the fewest obstacles...
128. oldal - She will sometimes go about from place to place, singing sweetly; and seems to be always full of joy and pleasure; and no one knows for what. She loves to be alone, walking in the fields and groves, and seems to have some one invisible always conversing with her.
181. oldal - Together both, ere the high lawns appeared Under the opening eyelids of the morn...
203. oldal - Dives inaccessos ubi Solis filia lucos Assiduo resonat cantu, tectisque superbis Urit odoratam nocturna in lumina cedrum, Arguto tenues percurrens pectine telas.
246. oldal - He saw beneath dim aisles, in odorous beds, The slight Linnaea hang its twin-born heads, And blessed the monument of the man of flowers, Which breathes his sweet fame through the northern bowers. He heard, when in the grove, at intervals, With sudden roar the aged pine-tree falls, — One crash, the death-hymn of the perfect tree, Declares the close of its green century.
208. oldal - ... and the dilapidated fences, which put such an interval between me and the last occupant; the hollow and lichencovered apple trees, gnawed by rabbits, showing what kind of neighbors I should have; but above all, the recollection I had of it from my earliest voyages up the river, when the house was concealed behind a dense grove of red maples, through which I heard the house-dog bark.