Tales of a Wayside InnTicknor and Fields, 1863 - 225 pages The book depicts a group of people at the Wayside Inn in Sudbury, Massachusetts as each tells a story in the form of a poem. |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 12
Page 9
... Level and pointed at the tip , Shot sideways , like a swallow's wings . The poets read he o'er and o'er , And most of all the Immortal Four Of Italy ; and next to those , The story - telling bard of prose , Who wrote 1 * THE WAYSIDE INN .
... Level and pointed at the tip , Shot sideways , like a swallow's wings . The poets read he o'er and o'er , And most of all the Immortal Four Of Italy ; and next to those , The story - telling bard of prose , Who wrote 1 * THE WAYSIDE INN .
Page 46
... Italian tales , " he said , " From the much - praised Decameron down Through all the rabble of the rest , Are either trifling , dull , or lewd ; The gossip of a neighborhood In some remote provincial town , A scandalous chronicle at ...
... Italian tales , " he said , " From the much - praised Decameron down Through all the rabble of the rest , Are either trifling , dull , or lewd ; The gossip of a neighborhood In some remote provincial town , A scandalous chronicle at ...
Page 63
... Italy , Whose loveliness was more resplendent made By the mere passing of that cavalcade , With plumes , and cloaks , and housings , and the stir Of jewelled bridle and of golden spur . And lo ! among the menials , in mock state , Upon ...
... Italy , Whose loveliness was more resplendent made By the mere passing of that cavalcade , With plumes , and cloaks , and housings , and the stir Of jewelled bridle and of golden spur . And lo ! among the menials , in mock state , Upon ...
Page 66
... Italy Unto Salerno , and from there by sea . And when once more within Palermo's wall , And , seated on the throne in his great hall , He heard the Angelus from convent towers , As if the better world conversed with ours , He beckoned ...
... Italy Unto Salerno , and from there by sea . And when once more within Palermo's wall , And , seated on the throne in his great hall , He heard the Angelus from convent towers , As if the better world conversed with ours , He beckoned ...
Page 188
... Italian Tales that you disdain , Some merry Night of Straparole , Or Machiavelli's Belphagor , Would cheer us and delight us more , Give greater pleasure and less pain Than your grim tragedies of Spain ! " And here the Poet raised his ...
... Italian Tales that you disdain , Some merry Night of Straparole , Or Machiavelli's Belphagor , Would cheer us and delight us more , Give greater pleasure and less pain Than your grim tragedies of Spain ! " And here the Poet raised his ...
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Common terms and phrases
Angel answered beard beneath birds Blue and gold breath chamber cried dark Dead rides Sir death door dreams Drontheim Edition Enceladus Essays eyes fairest of women falcon Federigo garden gazed gleamed Gudrun guest Hakon hand HARVARD COLLEGE head hear heard heart HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW Illustrated Iron-Beard Jameson's Jarl Killingworth King Olaf King Robert King Svend land laughed light listened look loud Memoir Monna Giovanna morning Morten of Fogelsang Nearly Ready night Northanger Abbey Norway o'er Odin Olaf the King Olaf's Priest Papers Paul Revere Philip Van Artevelde Poems Poetical prayer Queen rides Sir Morten round sails Scald Ser Federigo ships Sigrid the Haughty Sigurd Sigurd the Bishop silent singing song sound Steel Portrait stood Story sword tale Thangbrand thee Thor Thora Thorberg Skafting thou Thyri Ticknor and Fields town voice wall warlocks WAYSIDE WAYSIDE INN wild wood words
Popular passages
Page 13 - Good night!" and with muffled oar Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, Just as the moon rose over the bay, Where swinging wide at her moorings lay The Somerset, British man-of-war; A phantom ship, with each mast and spar Across the moon like a prison bar, And a huge black hulk, that was magnified By its own reflection in the tide.
Page 18 - You know the rest. In the books you have read, How the British Regulars fired and fled, — How the farmers gave them ball for ball, From behind each fence and farmyard wall, Chasing the red-coats down the lane, Then crossing the fields to emerge again Under the trees at the turn of the road, And only pausing to fire and load.
Page 165 - Hang empty mid the cobwebs of his dreams! Will bleat of flocks or bellowing of herds Make up for the lost music, when your teams Drag home the stingy harvest, and no more The feathered gleaners follow to your door?
Page 178 - They climb up into my turret O'er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me; They seem to be everywhere.
Page 186 - OUT of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow.
Page 135 - So hearts that are fainting Grow full to o'erflowing, And they that behold it Marvel, and know not That God at their fountains Far off has been raining...
Page 165 - Think, every morning when the sun peeps through The dim, leaf-latticed windows of the grove, How jubilant the happy 'birds renew Their old, melodious madrigals of love! And when you think of this, remember, too, 'Tis always morning somewhere, and above The awakening continents, from shore to shore, Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.
Page 43 - ROBERT of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, Apparelled in magnificent attire, With retinue of many a knight and squire, On St. John's eve, at vespers, proudly sat And heard the priests chant the Magnificat And as he listened, o'er and o'er again Repeated, like a burden or refrain, He caught the words, " Deposuit potentes De sede, el exaltavit humiles " ; And slowly lifting up his kingly head He to a learned clerk beside him said, " What mean these words ? " The clerk...
Page 178 - CHILDREN'S HOUR BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair. A whisper, and then a silence : Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting...