The Living Authors of America: 1st serStringer and Townsend, 1850 - 365 pages |
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Page 17
... heart is roused by all this laborious trifling ? Literature degenerates into a foible , and becomes a frivolous plaything , and not a great organ of instruction . No amount of personal exaggeration or flattery can ever elevate the most ...
... heart is roused by all this laborious trifling ? Literature degenerates into a foible , and becomes a frivolous plaything , and not a great organ of instruction . No amount of personal exaggeration or flattery can ever elevate the most ...
Page 22
... heart . This is the centre of Shakspeare's nature ; the extent of his kingdom is the Imagination . The inference is a logical deduction , that every reader of inferior mind , in proportion as he masters his author , becomes elevated ...
... heart . This is the centre of Shakspeare's nature ; the extent of his kingdom is the Imagination . The inference is a logical deduction , that every reader of inferior mind , in proportion as he masters his author , becomes elevated ...
Page 28
... heart , he crept close to the side of Tom , with that sort of selfish feeling that makes even hopeless misery more tolerable , when endured in participation with another . 666 " When the tide falls , ' he said in a voice that betrayed ...
... heart , he crept close to the side of Tom , with that sort of selfish feeling that makes even hopeless misery more tolerable , when endured in participation with another . 666 " When the tide falls , ' he said in a voice that betrayed ...
Page 29
... heart and a clean conscience , and trust the rest to God ! ' " God ! ' echoed Dillon in the madness of his phrensy ; ' I know no God ! there is no God that knows me ! ' “ Peace ! ' said the deep tones of the cockswain , in a voice that ...
... heart and a clean conscience , and trust the rest to God ! ' " God ! ' echoed Dillon in the madness of his phrensy ; ' I know no God ! there is no God that knows me ! ' “ Peace ! ' said the deep tones of the cockswain , in a voice that ...
Page 31
... heart is heavy , the pity of even a dog will warm our feelings . Few care for me now , or the friendship of such as he could never have been welcome . ' “ Antonio ceased , for the gondola of the state came with a rush- ing noise to the ...
... heart is heavy , the pity of even a dog will warm our feelings . Few care for me now , or the friendship of such as he could never have been welcome . ' “ Antonio ceased , for the gondola of the state came with a rush- ing noise to the ...
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Common terms and phrases
Acadian admiration Alnwick Castle American Annabel Lee beauty beneath breath Bryant Byron Cachuca Carmelite character charm Coleridge consider Cooper critic Dana dark death dramatist dream earth elaborate elegant Emerson England English evidence expression fact fair feel force genius George Sand give gondola grave Halleck hand hath heard heart heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW human HYPOLITO intellect JARED SPARKS Kirkland lady land Leigh Hunt light lines living Longfellow look Margaret Fuller mind Miss Fuller monomania nation Natty Bumppo nature never o'er once opinion passion peculiar poem poet poet's poetical poetry Prescott present prose quote Ralph Waldo Emerson reader remarks romance scene seems Shakspeare singular smile soul sound spirit stanza style sure sweet thee things thou thought throw tion true truth verse voice Willis woman word Wordsworth writings
Popular passages
Page 127 - The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me Yes! that was the reason (as all men know. In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night. Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
Page 114 - 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.
Page 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.
Page 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...
Page 129 - That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door; Darkness there and nothing more.
Page 194 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder shower ; and now The arena swims around him : he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Page 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.
Page 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...
Page 159 - The village smithy stands ; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 128 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and. curious volume of forgotten lore — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " "Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.