Great Spiritual Writers of AmericaP. Elder, 1916 - 163 pages |
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Page 22
... pathos , of keen sympathy with grief and suffering , of tenderness that is almost femi- nine in its intuition and charm , and of humor that has in it no malice and no sting . - Irving , who was born in 1783 and died . in 1859 , came of ...
... pathos , of keen sympathy with grief and suffering , of tenderness that is almost femi- nine in its intuition and charm , and of humor that has in it no malice and no sting . - Irving , who was born in 1783 and died . in 1859 , came of ...
Page 64
... pathos of The Wreck of the Hesperus . Here also are The Village Blacksmith , Excelsior and Maidenhood . Four years later appeared HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW IN HIS STUDY FROM A PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN [ 64 ] GREAT SPIRITUAL WRITERS.
... pathos of The Wreck of the Hesperus . Here also are The Village Blacksmith , Excelsior and Maidenhood . Four years later appeared HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW IN HIS STUDY FROM A PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN [ 64 ] GREAT SPIRITUAL WRITERS.
Page 65
... pathos over the loss of a dear one , the same assurance of meeting in a better world the child who has gone before . Though almost as famil- Psalms , two verses are iar as the best quoted here to show the simplicity of Longfellow's ...
... pathos over the loss of a dear one , the same assurance of meeting in a better world the child who has gone before . Though almost as famil- Psalms , two verses are iar as the best quoted here to show the simplicity of Longfellow's ...
Page 79
... pathos is as true as Elia's or Tom Hood's . What impresses the reader in all Holmes ' work is the abounding vitality of the man , the quickness of his fancy , the readiness of his wit and the felicity with which he always chooses the ...
... pathos is as true as Elia's or Tom Hood's . What impresses the reader in all Holmes ' work is the abounding vitality of the man , the quickness of his fancy , the readiness of his wit and the felicity with which he always chooses the ...
Page 88
... pathos are equal to anything that Words- worth ever wrote . Longfellow expressed the strong spiritual quality in Whittier's verse in these fine lines : Thou too hast heard Voices and melodies from beyond the gates , And speakest only ...
... pathos are equal to anything that Words- worth ever wrote . Longfellow expressed the strong spiritual quality in Whittier's verse in these fine lines : Thou too hast heard Voices and melodies from beyond the gates , And speakest only ...
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Common terms and phrases
Allan American authors American literature American writer anti-slavery appeal Autocrat beauty born Breakfast Table Bret Harte California charm Cooper critics Dean Howells death devoted early Edwin Markham Emerson England English essays Europe fame famous finest force genius genuine give greatest Hawthorne Hawthorne's HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW humor humorist impressed Indian keen language Leatherstocking Leatherstocking tales Leaves of Grass lectures literary living Longfellow Lowell Lowell's Mark Twain melody nature never novel OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES Otsego lake painting Parkman passion pathos PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN pioneer Poe's poems poet poetical poetry popular preached prose Puritan reader romance Scarlet Letter seems short stories showed sketches SPIRITUAL WRITERS splendid style things Thoreau thought verse volume Walden pond Walt Whitman Washington Irving Whittier William Dean William Dean Howells woods words written wrote young youth
Popular passages
Page 65 - Were half the power, that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth, bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts; The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
Page 36 - Of many far wiser than we — And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE, For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE; And the stars never rise, but I see the bright eyes Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride, In the sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding...
Page 66 - 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 20 - Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue! Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river! Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake! Far-swooping elbow'd earth— rich apple-blossom'd earth! Smile, for your lover comes.
Page 84 - Tic-tac! tic-tac! go the wheels of thought; our will cannot stop them ; they cannot stop themselves ; sleep cannot still them ; madness only makes them go faster ; death alone can break into the case, and, seizing the ever-swinging pendulum, which we call the heart, silence at last the clicking of the terrible escapement we have carried so long beneath our wrinkled foreheads.
Page 75 - Great captains, with their guns and drums, Disturb our judgment for the hour, But at last silence comes; These all are gone, and, standing like a tower, Our children shall behold his fame, The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man, Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, New birth of our new soil, the first American.
Page 138 - The emptiness of ages in his face, And on his back the burden of the world. Who made him dead to rapture and despair, A thing that grieves not and that never hopes, Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox? Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw? Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow? Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?
Page 75 - O'er such sweet brows as never other wore, And letting thy set lips, Freed from wrath's pale eclipse, The rosy edges of their smile lay bare, What words divine of lover or of poet Could tell our love and make thee know it, Among the Nations bright beyond compare? What were our lives without thee ? What all our lives to save thee ? We reck not what we gave thee; We will not dare to doubt thee, But ask whatever else, and we will dare...
Page 138 - BOWED by the weight of centuries he leans Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, The emptiness of ages in his face, And on his back the burden of the world.
Page 100 - He would be a poet who could impress the winds and streams into his service, to speak for him; who nailed words to their primitive senses, as farmers drive down stakes in the spring which the frost has heaved; who derived his words as often as he used them, transplanted them to his page with earth adhering to their roots; whose words were so true, and fresh, and natural that they would appear to expand like the buds at the approach of spring...