The Autocrat of the Breakfast-table, Том 2Houghton, Mifflin, 1889 - Всего страниц: 474 |
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Ahasuerus American elm asphyxia Barnsley beauty beneath Berkshire bombazine brain brown chair cheroot course crown damask roses dandyism dead dear divinity-student doubt dream English elm eyes face fancy feel feet fellah flower Foremark Gambrel gentle green habit half hand HANGMAN STONES head hear heard heart Houyhnhnm human hundred ical kind laugh lips living long path look man's ment mind morning Nature never o'er old age old gentleman opposite once one-hoss-shay pass perhaps poem Poet poor porringer pretty Professor remember rience rose round rowlocks schoolmistress seen smile sometimes song soul speak spring stand story Street suppose sweet talk tell things thought tion Titian told took trees true TURELL velocipedes verses voices wait walk walls waves window woman words young fellow young persons youth
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Стр. 353 - The parson was working his Sunday's text — Had got to fifthly, and stopped perplexed At what the — Moses — was coming next. All at once the horse stood still, Close by the meet'n'house on the hill. First a shiver, and then a thrill, Then something decidedly like a spill, And the parson was sitting upon a rock, At half past nine by the meet'n'house clock, Just the hour of the earthquake shock!
Стр. 372 - Which others often show for pride, / value for their power to please, And selfish churls deride ; — One Stradivarius, I confess, Two Meerschaums, I would fain possess. Wealth's wasteful tricks I will not learn, Nor ape the glittering upstart fool ; — Shall not carved tables serve my turn, But all must be of buhl? Give grasping pomp its double share, — I ask but one recumbent chair. Thus humble let me live and die, Nor long for Midas...
Стр. 352 - Little of all we value here Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year Without both feeling and looking queer. In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth, So far as I know, but a tree and truth. This is a moral that runs at large; (Take it.
Стр. 350 - HAVE you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay, That was built in such a logical way It ran a hundred years to a day, And then, of a sudden, it— ah, but stay, I'll tell you what happened without delay, Scaring the parson into fits, Frightening people out of their wits,— Have you ever heard of that, I say? Seventeen hundred and fifty-five.
Стр. 370 - Little I ask ; my wants are few ; I only wish a hut of stone, (A very plain brown stone will do,) That I may call my own ; — And close at hand is such a one, In yonder street that fronts the sun. Plain food is quite enough for me; Three courses are as good as ten ; — If Nature can subsist on three, Thank Heaven for three. Amen! I always thought cold victual nice; — My choice would be vanilla-ice. I...
Стр. 352 - EIGHTEEN HUNDRED;— it came and found The Deacon's masterpiece strong and sound. Eighteen hundred increased by ten; — "Hahnsum kerridge" they called it then. Eighteen hundred and twenty came; — Running as usual; much the same. Thirty and forty at last arrive, And then come fifty, and FIFTY-FIVE.
Стр. 383 - Think, — I said, — before you answer ; if you take the long path with me now, I shall interpret it that we are to part no more! The schoolmistress stepped back with a sudden movement, as if an arrow had struck her. One of the long granite blocks used as seats was hard by, — the one you may still see close by the Gingko-tree. Pray, sit down, — I said. No, no, she answered, softly, — I will walk the long path with you...
Стр. 313 - One moves in silence by the stream, With sad, yet watchful eyes, Calm as the patient planet's gleam That walks the clouded skies. Along its front no sabres shine, No blood-red pennons wave ; Its banner bears the single line,
Стр. 350 - Saw the earth open and gulp her down, And Braddock's army was done so brown, Left without a scalp to its crown. It was on the terrible Earthquake-day That the Deacon finished the one-hoss shay.
Стр. 244 - By myriad rings in trembling chains, Each graven with the threaded zone Which claims it as the master's own. See how yon beam of seeming white Is braided out of seven-hued light, Yet in those lucid globes no ray By any chance shall break astray.