H. W. Longfellow and W. C. BryantP. F. Collier, 1902 - 714 pages |
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... deep impress on the poetry of Emerson : it left hardly a hair - line on the work of Longfellow . Like Whittier , he seemed to move on paths but faintly disturbed by the conflicts and readjustments that followed the discov- ery of the ...
... deep impress on the poetry of Emerson : it left hardly a hair - line on the work of Longfellow . Like Whittier , he seemed to move on paths but faintly disturbed by the conflicts and readjustments that followed the discov- ery of the ...
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. His muse chose for theme no deep dramatic moments of the soul . He had not the intensity nor the insight of the great masters ; had little of the grand manner , little of the creative imagination . He was ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. His muse chose for theme no deep dramatic moments of the soul . He had not the intensity nor the insight of the great masters ; had little of the grand manner , little of the creative imagination . He was ...
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... deep stream ! All forms of sorrow and delight , All solemn Voices of the Night , That can soothe thee , or affright , - Be these henceforth thy theme . " HYMN TO THE NIGHT . Ασπασίη , τριλλιστος . I HEARD the trailing garments of the ...
... deep stream ! All forms of sorrow and delight , All solemn Voices of the Night , That can soothe thee , or affright , - Be these henceforth thy theme . " HYMN TO THE NIGHT . Ασπασίη , τριλλιστος . I HEARD the trailing garments of the ...
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... deep and tender eyes , Like the stars , so still and saint - like , Looking downward from the skies . Uttered not , yet comprehended , Is the spirit's voiceless prayer , Soft rebukes , in blessings ended , Breathing from her lips of air ...
... deep and tender eyes , Like the stars , so still and saint - like , Looking downward from the skies . Uttered not , yet comprehended , Is the spirit's voiceless prayer , Soft rebukes , in blessings ended , Breathing from her lips of air ...
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... deep sound , Flows the River of Life between . No other voice , nor sound is there , In the army of the grave ; No other challenge breaks the air , But the rushing of Life's wave . And , when the solemn and deep church - bell Entreats ...
... deep sound , Flows the River of Life between . No other voice , nor sound is there , In the army of the grave ; No other challenge breaks the air , But the rushing of Life's wave . And , when the solemn and deep church - bell Entreats ...
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Other editions - View all
H. W. Longfellow and W. C. Bryant: With an Introduction to Longfellow by ... Henry Wadsworth Longfellow No preview available - 2018 |
H. W. Longfellow and W. C. Bryant Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,William Cullen Bryant No preview available - 2018 |
H. W. Longfellow And W. C. Bryant Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,William Cullen Bryant No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
Acadian arrows beautiful behold beneath birds blossoms bosom breath bright Chibiabos CHISPA clouds CRUZADO Dacotahs dance dark dead death deep DON CARLOS dost dreams earth Edenhall eyes fair father fire flowers forest gaze gentle gleam golden grave green Gypsy hand hast hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha HYPOLITO John Alden Kenabeek Kwasind land LARA Laughing Water leaves light look maiden maize meadow mighty Miles Standish Minnehaha Mondamin moon morning mountain murmur night o'er Osseo pass Pau-Puk-Keewis PRECIOSA rise river rock rose round sail Sandalphon sang shade shadows shalt shining shore silent singing sleep smile snow soft song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spake spirit Standish stars stood stream strong summer sunshine sweet Tharaw thee thine thou art thought trees VICTORIAN village voice wampum wander waves weary wigwam wild wind woods words youth
Popular passages
Page 310 - Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State ! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, . ' Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat 289 Were shaped the anchors of thy hope...
Page 223 - Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ) Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.
Page 299 - I SHOT an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where ; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where ; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song ? Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke ; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.
Page 3 - Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Page 228 - EXCELSIOR. THE shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior ! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, Excelsior...
Page 282 - THE melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the withered 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 223 - UNDER a spreading chestnut tree 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 38 - 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 37 - Last night, the moon had a golden ring, and to-night no moon we see ! " The skipper he blew a whiff from his pipe, and a scornful laugh laughed he.
Page 29 - To be a brother to the insensible rock And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon.