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already American appeared associations beautiful become born Boston Bryant built called character charm close College common Concord Cooper door early England expression fancy father favorite feeling fields friends genius give graceful green ground habit half hand heart hills honor interest Italy kind known land leaves less letters light literary literature lived look meadows memory miles mind morning mountains native nature never observation once original passed perhaps poem poet Prescott present published quiet residence returned rich river scene seemed seen shores side society soon spirit stands story stream success summer taste thing thought tion town trees village volume walks whole wonder woods writings written young
Стр. 98 - Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun, - the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods - rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.
Стр. 337 - THE snow had begun in the gloaming, And busily all the night Had been heaping field and highway With a silence deep and white. Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, And the poorest twig on the elm-tree Was ridged inch deep with pearl.
Стр. 338 - And I told of the good All-father Who cares for us here below. Again I looked at the snow-fall, And thought of the leaden sky That arched o'er our first great sorrow, When that mound was heaped so high. I remembered the gradual patience That fell from that cloud like snow, Flake by flake, healing and hiding The scar of our deep-plunged woe.
Стр. 32 - I shan't run directly against my own preaching, And, having just laughed at their Raphaels and Dantes, Go to setting you up beside matchless Cervantes; But allow me to speak what I honestly feel, — To a true poet-heart add the fun of Dick Steele, Throw in all of Addison, minus the chill, With the whole...
Стр. 275 - WINDOW. THE old house by the lindens Stood silent in the shade, And on the gravelled pathway The light and shadow played. I saw the nursery windows Wide open to the air ; But the faces of the children, They were no longer there.
Стр. 338 - Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her; And she, kissing back, could not know That my kiss was given to her sister, Folded close under deepening snow.
Стр. 346 - There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin'. The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out Towards the pootiest, bless her, An' leetle flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser.
Стр. 235 - Coverdalc, a statue of night and silence, sat, a little removed, under a portrait of Dante, gazing imperturbably upon the group ; and as he sat in the shadow, his dark hair and eyes and suit of sables made him, in that society, the black thread of mystery which he weaves into his stories, while the shifting presence of the Brook Farmer played like heat-lightning around the room.
Стр. 286 - ... of poetic Webster. He rose and walked to the window, and stood quietly there for a long time, watching the dead white landscape. No appeal was made to him, nobody looked after him, the conversation flowed steadily on as if every one understood that his silence was to be respectcd.