The Living Authors of America: 1st serStringer and Townsend, 1850 - Всего страниц: 365 |
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Стр. vii
... give an opinion cannot be disputed , seeing that it is assumed and exercised by every newspaper critic in the world . We trust to the indulgence of our readers for this egotistical statement , which has been forced from us by sundry ...
... give an opinion cannot be disputed , seeing that it is assumed and exercised by every newspaper critic in the world . We trust to the indulgence of our readers for this egotistical statement , which has been forced from us by sundry ...
Стр. 17
... may feel inclined to bestow upon England ; but we must admit , that the smiling benignity with which Mr. Irving surveys every evidence of aristocratical power , gives us but a very poor opinion of JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 17.
... may feel inclined to bestow upon England ; but we must admit , that the smiling benignity with which Mr. Irving surveys every evidence of aristocratical power , gives us but a very poor opinion of JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 17.
Стр. 18
1st ser Thomas Powell. power , gives us but a very poor opinion of either his sincerity or his republican feelings . He describes , with evident delight , the royal state of the English nobility ; he has no eye to see the foundation of ...
1st ser Thomas Powell. power , gives us but a very poor opinion of either his sincerity or his republican feelings . He describes , with evident delight , the royal state of the English nobility ; he has no eye to see the foundation of ...
Стр. 24
... give him his own character . He illustrated this position with many instances of men , whose religious opinions we well knew , and in every instance he pre- sented us with a key to the man's whole character . This undeviating coherency ...
... give him his own character . He illustrated this position with many instances of men , whose religious opinions we well knew , and in every instance he pre- sented us with a key to the man's whole character . This undeviating coherency ...
Стр. 31
... give Jacopo more time . I doubt not the poor fellow hath struck a blow since quit- ting the palace that the council will not forgive ! The sight of gold hath been too strong , and he hath offended those who have so long borne with him ...
... give Jacopo more time . I doubt not the poor fellow hath struck a blow since quit- ting the palace that the council will not forgive ! The sight of gold hath been too strong , and he hath offended those who have so long borne with him ...
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Стр. 115 - TO HELEN. Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 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...
Стр. 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.
Стр. 126 - IT WAS many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.
Стр. 228 - AT midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power ; In dreams, through camp and court, he bore The trophies of a conqueror ; In dreams his song of triumph heard. Then wore his monarch's signet ring, Then pressed that monarch's throne — a King ; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird.
Стр. 231 - ... when she fears For him the joy of her young years, Thinks of thy fate, and checks her tears; And she, the mother of thy boys, Though in her eye and faded cheek Is read the grief she will not speak, The memory of her buried joys, And even she who gave thee birth, Will, by their pilgrim-circled hearth, Talk of thy doom without a sigh; For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's: One of the few, the immortal names, That were not born to die.
Стр. 127 - For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
Стр. 127 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we 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...
Стр. 156 - Sound needed none, Nor any voice of joy; his spirit drank The spectacle: sensation, soul, and form, All melted into him; they swallowed up His animal being ; in them did he live, And by them did he live; they were his life. In such access of mind, in such high hour Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not; in enjoyment it expired.