Authors' Birthdays: Containing Exercises for the Celebration of the Birthdays of Poe, Longfellow, T.B. Read, Irving .... First series |
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Page 18
His voice was soft and musical , his movement easy and quiet , his bearing such
that no failure could humble it , his melancholy habitual but thoughtful . N . P .
Willis said of him that Appearance and Character 19 he never smiled . In after.
His voice was soft and musical , his movement easy and quiet , his bearing such
that no failure could humble it , his melancholy habitual but thoughtful . N . P .
Willis said of him that Appearance and Character 19 he never smiled . In after.
Page 36
He afterwards wrote : I kept it some time in manuscript , unwilling to show it to
anyone , it being a voice from my inmost heart at a time when I was rallying from
depression . He received multitudes of testimonials that it had been an inspiration
to ...
He afterwards wrote : I kept it some time in manuscript , unwilling to show it to
anyone , it being a voice from my inmost heart at a time when I was rallying from
depression . He received multitudes of testimonials that it had been an inspiration
to ...
Page 37
VI In 1839 he published his Voices of the Night , including with poems lately
written a few selected from his earlier publications in newspapers and magazines
. Besides the Psalm of Life , the Hymn to the Night , The Reaper and the ...
VI In 1839 he published his Voices of the Night , including with poems lately
written a few selected from his earlier publications in newspapers and magazines
. Besides the Psalm of Life , the Hymn to the Night , The Reaper and the ...
Page 49
FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS When the hours of Day are numbered , And the voices
of the Night Wake the better soul , that slumbered , To a holy , calm delight ; Ere
the evening lamps are lighted , And , like phantoms grim and tall , Shadows from
...
FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS When the hours of Day are numbered , And the voices
of the Night Wake the better soul , that slumbered , To a holy , calm delight ; Ere
the evening lamps are lighted , And , like phantoms grim and tall , Shadows from
...
Page 54
His hair , changing with years from its original dark hue to a silvery white ,
combined with his full beard to give him an appearance of serene and winning
majesty . His voice was low and deé Circulating i Lo Library Y . Free Chatham
Square ...
His hair , changing with years from its original dark hue to a silvery white ,
combined with his full beard to give him an appearance of serene and winning
majesty . His voice was low and deé Circulating i Lo Library Y . Free Chatham
Square ...
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Authors' Birthdays: Containing Exercises for the Celebration of the ... Charles William Bardeen No preview available - 2018 |
Authors' Birthdays: Containing Exercises for the Celebration of the ... Charles William Bardeen No preview available - 2018 |
Authors' Birthdays: First Series; Containing Exercises for the Celebration ... Charles William Bardeen No preview available - 2017 |
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Popular passages
Page 293 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Page 169 - My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; The ship is...
Page 17 - Hear the loud alarum bells Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire...
Page 31 - There is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted!
Page 302 - Soon as the little ones chip the shell, Six wide mouths are open for food; Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seeds for the hungry brood. Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; This new life is likely to be Hard for a gay young fellow like me. Chee, chee, chee.
Page 16 - Hear the sledges with the bells, Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells.' How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars, that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Page 90 - Every change of season, every change of weather, indeed every hour of the day, produces some change in the magical hues and shapes of these mountains ; and they are regarded by all the good wives, far and near, as perfect barometers. When the weather is fair and settled, they are clothed in blue and purple, and print their bold outlines on the clear evening sky ; but sometimes, when the rest of the landscape is cloudless, they will gather a hood of gray vapors about their summits, which, in the last...
Page 295 - THE melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread ; The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day.
Page 117 - Rip Van Winkle" exclaimed two or three. "Oh, to be sure! That's Rip Van Winkle yonder, leaning against the tree." Rip looked, and beheld a precise counterpart of himself as he went up the mountain; apparently as lazy, and certainly as ragged. The poor fellow was now completely confounded. He doubted his own identity, and whether he was himself or another man. In the midst of his bewilderment, the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name? "God knows!
Page 32 - In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead. Day after day we think what she is doing In those bright realms of air ; Year after year, her tender steps pursuing, Behold her grown more fair. Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken The bond which nature gives, Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken, May reach her where she lives.