A Library of American Literature... |
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Страница 53
... thee a dog's life of it ; but never mind , my lad , whilst I live thou shall never want a friend to stand by thee ! " Wolf would wag his tail , look wistfully in his master's face , and if dogs can feel pity I verily believe he ...
... thee a dog's life of it ; but never mind , my lad , whilst I live thou shall never want a friend to stand by thee ! " Wolf would wag his tail , look wistfully in his master's face , and if dogs can feel pity I verily believe he ...
Страница 92
... thee , of even the starry train ; For , all the host around thee burning , Like faithless man , keep turning , turning . I may not follow where they go : Star of the North , I look to thee While on I press ; for well I know Thy light ...
... thee , of even the starry train ; For , all the host around thee burning , Like faithless man , keep turning , turning . I may not follow where they go : Star of the North , I look to thee While on I press ; for well I know Thy light ...
Страница 93
... thee ! I trust thy steady light alone : Star of the North ! thou seem'st to me To burn before the Almighty's throne , To guide me , through these forests dim And vast , to liberty and HIM . Thy beam is on the glassy breast Of the still ...
... thee ! I trust thy steady light alone : Star of the North ! thou seem'st to me To burn before the Almighty's throne , To guide me , through these forests dim And vast , to liberty and HIM . Thy beam is on the glassy breast Of the still ...
Страница 112
... thee at my lonely hearth . And when my lamp's decaying beam But dimly shows the lettered page , Rich with some ancient poet's dream , Or wisdom of a purer age , — Then will I listen to thy sound , And , musing o'er the embers pale With ...
... thee at my lonely hearth . And when my lamp's decaying beam But dimly shows the lettered page , Rich with some ancient poet's dream , Or wisdom of a purer age , — Then will I listen to thy sound , And , musing o'er the embers pale With ...
Страница 113
... thee at my lonely hearth . TRUST AND SUBMISSION . MY God , I thank thee ! may no thought E'er deem thy chastisements severe ; But may this heart , by sorrow taught , Calm each wild wish , each idle fear . Thy mercy bids all nature bloom ...
... thee at my lonely hearth . TRUST AND SUBMISSION . MY God , I thank thee ! may no thought E'er deem thy chastisements severe ; But may this heart , by sorrow taught , Calm each wild wish , each idle fear . Thy mercy bids all nature bloom ...
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Често срещани думи и фрази
appearance arms Atmore Aurelian beauty BORN breath Cæsar called Captain character Chingachgook Christian Colonel colors command courage cried dark death deep Delaware DIED Dorset earth enemy Erik the Red exclaimed eyes face father fear feelings fell fire flowers followed friends frigate gave give Greenland Griffith Gummage hand head heard heart heaven honor hour human Indians Iroquois land Lenape light live look luminiferous ether Magua MARIA GOWEN BROOKS mind morning mother nature never Nezahualcoyotl night o'er passed passion peddler Peter Stuyvesant replied returned Rip Van Winkle round scene seemed seen ship Sibyl side smile soon soul spirit stars stood Tamenund tell thee thou thought tion told took truth turned Uncas uncon vessel Vinland voice warriors Washington Irving whole woods words young
Популярни откъси
Страница 300 - Yet a few days and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again...
Страница 215 - They fought— like brave men, long and well; They piled that ground with Moslem slain: They conquered— but Bozzaris fell, Bleeding at every vein. His few surviving comrades saw His smile when rang their proud hurrah, And the red field was won; Then saw in death his eyelids close Calmly, as to a night's repose. Like flowers at set of sun.
Страница 60 - Hudson and his crew are at their game of ninepins ; and it is a common wish of all henpecked husbands in the neighborhood, when life hangs heavy on their hands, that they might have a quieting draught out of Rip Van Winkle's flagon.
Страница 100 - The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.
Страница 299 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Страница 300 - The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come 22 And make their bed with thee.
Страница 57 - A Tory, a Tory! A spy! A refugee! Hustle him! Away with him!" It was with great difficulty that the self-important man in the cocked hat restored order, and having assumed a tenfold austerity of brow, demanded again of the unknown culprit what he came there for, and whom he was seeking. The poor man humbly assured him that he meant no harm, but merely came there in search of some of his neighbors, who used to keep about the tavern. "Well, who are they? Name them.
Страница 306 - And now, when comes the calm, mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home! When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still: And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore. And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
Страница 306 - Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood? Alas ! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again.
Страница 300 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings, — yet the dead are there: And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep, — the dead reign there alone.