The Sketch-book of Geoffrey Crayon, GentG.P. Putnam's sons, 1848 - 464 страници |
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Страница 14
... deep rivers , rolling in solemn silence to the ocean ; her trackless forests , where vegetation puts forth all its magnificence ; her skies , kindling with the magic of summer clouds and glorious sunshine ; —no , never need an American ...
... deep rivers , rolling in solemn silence to the ocean ; her trackless forests , where vegetation puts forth all its magnificence ; her skies , kindling with the magic of summer clouds and glorious sunshine ; —no , never need an American ...
Страница 18
... deep , and of the air , and rather tend to abstract the mind from worldly themes . I delighted to loll over the quarter - railing , or climb to the main - top , of a calm day , and muse for hours together on the tranquil bosom of a ...
... deep , and of the air , and rather tend to abstract the mind from worldly themes . I delighted to loll over the quarter - railing , or climb to the main - top , of a calm day , and muse for hours together on the tranquil bosom of a ...
Страница 19
... deep at their uncouth gambols . Shoals of porpoises tumbling about the bow of the ship ; the grampus slowly heaving his huge form above the surface ; or the rav- enous shark , darting , like a spectre , through the blue waters . My ...
... deep at their uncouth gambols . Shoals of porpoises tumbling about the bow of the ship ; the grampus slowly heaving his huge form above the surface ; or the rav- enous shark , darting , like a spectre , through the blue waters . My ...
Страница 20
... deep . Silence , oblivion , like the waves , have closed over them , and no one can tell the story of their end . What sighs have been wafted after that ship ! what prayers offered up at the deserted fireside of home ! How often has the ...
... deep . Silence , oblivion , like the waves , have closed over them , and no one can tell the story of their end . What sighs have been wafted after that ship ! what prayers offered up at the deserted fireside of home ! How often has the ...
Страница 22
Washington Irving. sullen sound of rushing waves , and broken surges . Deep called unto deep . At times the black volume of clouds over head seemed rent asunder by flashes of lightning which quiv- ered along the foaming billows , and ...
Washington Irving. sullen sound of rushing waves , and broken surges . Deep called unto deep . At times the black volume of clouds over head seemed rent asunder by flashes of lightning which quiv- ered along the foaming billows , and ...
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abbey ancient antiquity baron beautiful Boar's Head bosom Bracebridge Canonchet castle character charm Christmas church cottage countenance Dame dark delight distant door earth Eastcheap Edward the Confessor England English Falstaff fancy favorite feelings flowers goblin grave green hall hand heard heart hung Ichabod Ichabod Crane Indian John Bull kind lady Little Britain living look mansion Master Simon melancholy ment merry mind mingled monuments morning mountain Narraganset nature neighborhood neighboring never night noble observed old English old gentleman once passed Philip poet poor pride quiet Rip Van Winkle round rural scene seated seemed Shakspeare sleep Sleepy Hollow sometimes song sorrow soul sound spectre spirit squire story sweet tender thing thought tion tomb tower trees turn village wandering Wassail Wat Tyler Westminster Abbey whole wild William Walworth window Winkle worthy young
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Страница 59 - There was a busy, bustling, disputatious tone about it instead of the accustomed phlegm and drowsy tranquillity. He looked in vain for the sage Nicholas Vedder, with his broad face, double chin, and fair, long pipe, uttering clouds of tobacco smoke instead of idle speeches; or Van Bummel, the schoolmaster, doling forth the contents of an ancient newspaper.
Страница 62 - I am your father!" cried he — "Young Rip Van Winkle once — old Rip Van Winkle now ! Does nobody know poor Rip Van Winkle?" All stood amazed, until an old woman, tottering out from among the crowd, put her hand to her brow, and peering under it in his face for a moment, exclaimed, " Sure enough ! it is Rip Van Winkle — it is himself. Welcome home again, old neighbor ! Why, where have you been these twenty long years?
Страница 60 - ... There was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied, in a thin piping voice, " Nicholas Vedder ! why, he is dead and gone these eighteen years ! There was a wooden tombstone in the church-yard that used to tell all about him, but that's rotten and gone too.
Страница 54 - Their visages, too, were peculiar; one had a large head, broad face, and small piggish eyes; the face of another seemed to consist entirely of nose, and was surmounted by a white sugar-loaf hat, set off with a little red cock's tail. They all had beards, of various shapes and colors. There was one who seemed to be the commander.
Страница 62 - The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all awakened a train of recollections in his mind. " What is your name, my good woman ?
Страница 55 - ... of excellent Hollands. He was naturally a thirsty soul, and was soon tempted to repeat the draught. One taste provoked another, and he reiterated his visits to the flagon so often that at length his senses were overpowered, his eyes swam in his head, his head gradually declined, and he fell into a deep sleep.
Страница 184 - ... if thou art a lover, and hast ever given one unmerited pang to that true heart which now lies cold and still beneath thy feet, — then be sure that every unkind look, every ungracious word, every ungentle action will come thronging back upon thy memory and knocking dolefully at thy soul...
Страница 51 - thy mistress leads thee a dog's life of it; but never mind, my lad, whilst I live, thou shalt 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 reciprocated the sentiment with all his heart.
Страница 54 - Rip and his companion approached them, they suddenly desisted from their play, and stared at him with such fixed statuelike gaze, and such strange, uncouth, lack-lustre countenances, that his heart turned within him, and his knees smote together. His companion now emptied the contents of the keg into large flagons, and made signs to him to wait upon the company. He obeyed with fear and trembling; they quaffed the liquor in profound silence, and then returned to their game.
Страница 64 - Rip's daughter took him home to live with her; she had a snug, wellfurnished house, and a stout cheery farmer for a husband, whom Rip recollected for one of the urchins that used to climb upon his back. As to Rip's son and heir, who was the ditto of himself, seen leaning against the tree, he was employed to work on the farm; but evinced an hereditary disposition to attend to any thing else but his business.