The White Hills: Their Legends, Landscape, and PoetryCrosby, Nichols,, 1860 - 403 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 65 találatból.
35. oldal
... climbed the highest summit in 1642. It appears from the account that " within 12 miles of the top was neither tree nor grass but low savins , which they went upon the top of sometimes , but a Josselyn's Voyages , p . 135. " The Indians ...
... climbed the highest summit in 1642. It appears from the account that " within 12 miles of the top was neither tree nor grass but low savins , which they went upon the top of sometimes , but a Josselyn's Voyages , p . 135. " The Indians ...
37. oldal
... climbing discoverer ; upon the top of the highest of these Mountains is a large Level or Plain of a days journey over , whereon nothing grows but Moss ; at the farther end of this Plain is another Hill called the Sugar - loaf , to ...
... climbing discoverer ; upon the top of the highest of these Mountains is a large Level or Plain of a days journey over , whereon nothing grows but Moss ; at the farther end of this Plain is another Hill called the Sugar - loaf , to ...
45. oldal
... climbed the dark steeps ; or an angler ( not a man with a " fishpole " hooking trout , but a hearty admirer of nature and her clear brooks , who catches his dinner for his soul's health as well as his body's ) fol- lowed the streams ...
... climbed the dark steeps ; or an angler ( not a man with a " fishpole " hooking trout , but a hearty admirer of nature and her clear brooks , who catches his dinner for his soul's health as well as his body's ) fol- lowed the streams ...
71. oldal
... climbed . What refinement of pleasure was there in remarking the minuteness , as well as vast- ness of the copy ! Ah ! no copyist of the old masters can render his original upon the canvas as faithfully in every line and hue , or with ...
... climbed . What refinement of pleasure was there in remarking the minuteness , as well as vast- ness of the copy ! Ah ! no copyist of the old masters can render his original upon the canvas as faithfully in every line and hue , or with ...
89. oldal
... Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers ; The cowslip startles in meadows green , The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice . And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace ; The little bird sits at ...
... Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers ; The cowslip startles in meadows green , The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice . And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace ; The little bird sits at ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
The White Hills: Their Legends, Landscape, and Poetry Thomas Starr King Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2019 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Abel Crawford afternoon Androscoggin artist ascend beauty birch blue Campton cascades Centre Harbor charming Chocorua cliffs climbing clouds color Crawford House crest curves dark deep distance dome drive earth Ellis River excursion fall forest Franconia Glen House Gorham grace granite grass gray green Hampshire height hues hundred feet Jefferson Kiarsarge Lafayette lake landscape ledge light lines look lovely lower meadows miles mists morning moun Mount Adams Mount Crawford Mount Hayes Mount Lafayette Mount Madison Mount Washington Mount Webster Mount Willey Nature night North Conway Notch o'er pass path Peabody River peaks Pemigewasset purple rain ravine region ride ridge river road rocks rocky Saco Sandwich range scenery seemed seen shadow shores side slopes snow splendor steep stream summer summit sunset sweep tain thou trees valley village visitors wall White Hills whole wild wilderness Willey wind Winnipiseogee woods
Népszerű szakaszok
289. oldal - Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it: thou greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is full of water: thou preparest them corn, when thou hast so provided for it.
89. oldal - The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves. And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives ; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings ; He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest, — In the nice ear of nature which song is the best...
168. oldal - O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
396. oldal - Winds thwarting winds bewildered and forlorn, The torrents shooting from the clear blue sky, The rocks that muttered close upon our ears, Black drizzling crags that spake by the wayside As if a voice were in them, the sick sight And giddy prospect of the raving stream...
171. oldal - I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling, And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel, And draw them all along, and flow To join the brimming river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever.
197. oldal - He brought me forth also into a large place; He delivered me, because he delighted in me.
58. oldal - The charming landscape which I saw this morning, is indubitably made up of some twenty or thirty farms. Miller owns this field, Locke that, and Manning the woodland beyond. But none of them owns the landscape. There is a property in the horizon which no man has but he whose eye can integrate all the parts, that is, the poet.
170. oldal - I COME from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges.
89. oldal - And what is so rare as a day in June ? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays : Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might. An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
182. oldal - Give me health and a day, and I will make the pomp of emperors ridiculous.