The Sketch-bookG.P. Putnam's Sons, 1848 - 299 страници |
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Страница v
... 193 WESTMINSTER ABBEY , 213 CHRISTMAS , 233 THE STAGE COACH , 241 CHRISTMAS EVE , 249 CHRISTMAS DAY , 263 THE CHRISTMAS DINNER , 281 LONDON ANTIQUES , 299 LITTLE BRITAIN , 307 Page STRATFORD - ON - AVON , 325 TRAITS OF.
... 193 WESTMINSTER ABBEY , 213 CHRISTMAS , 233 THE STAGE COACH , 241 CHRISTMAS EVE , 249 CHRISTMAS DAY , 263 THE CHRISTMAS DINNER , 281 LONDON ANTIQUES , 299 LITTLE BRITAIN , 307 Page STRATFORD - ON - AVON , 325 TRAITS OF.
Страница 231
... by a gas light has quite a spectral effect . It is a mural monument of one of the Pultneys . The cloisters are well worth visiting by moonlight , when the moon is in the full . ! CHRISTMAS . But is old , old , good WESTMINSTER ABBEY . 231.
... by a gas light has quite a spectral effect . It is a mural monument of one of the Pultneys . The cloisters are well worth visiting by moonlight , when the moon is in the full . ! CHRISTMAS . But is old , old , good WESTMINSTER ABBEY . 231.
Страница 233
Washington Irving. CHRISTMAS . But is old , old , good old Christmas gone ? Nothing but the hair of his good , gray , old head and beard left ? Well , I will have that , seeing I cannot have more of him . HUE AND CRY AFTER CHRISTMAS . A ...
Washington Irving. CHRISTMAS . But is old , old , good old Christmas gone ? Nothing but the hair of his good , gray , old head and beard left ? Well , I will have that , seeing I cannot have more of him . HUE AND CRY AFTER CHRISTMAS . A ...
Страница 234
... Christmas awakens the strongest and most heartfelt associations . There is a tone of solemn and sacred feeling that blends with our conviviality , and lifts the spirit to a state of hallowed and elevated enjoyment . The services of the ...
... Christmas awakens the strongest and most heartfelt associations . There is a tone of solemn and sacred feeling that blends with our conviviality , and lifts the spirit to a state of hallowed and elevated enjoyment . The services of the ...
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abbey ancient antiquity baron beautiful Boar's Head bosom Bracebridge Canonchet castle character charm Christmas church church-yard cottage countenance custom Dame dark delight distant door earth Eastcheap Edward the Confessor England English Falstaff fancy favorite feelings fire flowers gathered goblin grave green hall hand heard heart horse hung Ichabod Ichabod Crane Indian John Bull kind lady Little Britain living look mansion Master Simon melancholy merry mind mingled monuments mountain Narragansets 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 side sleep Sleepy Hollow sometimes song sorrow soul sound spectre spirit squire story sweet tender thing thought tion tomb trees turn village wandering Wassail Wat Tyler Westminster Abbey whole wild William Walworth window worthy young
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Страница 156 - Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the Prince broke thy head for liking his father to a singing-man of Windsor— thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady thy wife.
Страница 47 - Times grew worse and worse with Rip Van Winkle as years of matrimony rolled on; a tart temper never mellows with age, and a sharp tongue is the only edged tool that grows keener with constant use.
Страница 45 - It could not be from the want of assiduity or perseverance; for he would sit on a wet rock, with a rod as long and heavy as a Tartar's lance, and fish all day without a murmur, even though he should not be encouraged by a single nibble.
Страница 238 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long : And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
Страница 62 - ... insisted that Rip had been out of his head, and that this was one point on which he always remained flighty. The old Dutch inhabitants, however, almost universally gave it full credit Even to this day they never hear a thunder-storm of a summer afternoon about the Kaatskill, but they say Hendrick Hudson and his crew are at their game of ninepins ; and it is a common wish of all hen-pecked husbands in the neighborhood, when life hangs heavy on their hands, that they might have a quieting draught...
Страница 261 - Then let not the dark thee cumber ; What though the moon does slumber, The stars of the night Will lend thee their light, Like tapers clear without number. Then Julia, let me woo thee, Thus, thus to come unto me ; And when I shall meet Thy silvery feet, My soul I'll pour into thee.
Страница 58 - Rip's heart died away at hearing of these sad changes in his home and friends, and finding himself thus alone in the world. Every answer puzzled him too, by treating of such enormous lapses of time, and of matters which he could not understand: war — congress — Stony Point; — he had no courage to ask after any more friends, but cried out in despair, "Does nobody here know Rip Van Winkle?" "Oh, Rip Van Winkle!" exclaimed two or three, "Oh, to be sure ! that's Rip Van Winkle yonder, leaning against...
Страница 93 - He had lived for his love — for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him — Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind him ! Oh ! make her a grave where the sunbeams rest, When they promise a glorious morrow ; They'll shine o'er her sleep, like a smile from the west, From her own loved island of sorrow...
Страница 43 - WHOEV-ER has made a voyage up the Hudson must remember the Kaatskill mountains. They are a dismembered branch of the great Appalachian family, and are seen away to the west of the river, swelling up to a noble height, and lording it over the surrounding country.
Страница 444 - The sun gradually wheeled his broad disk down into the west The wide bosom of the Tappan Zee lay motionless and glassy, excepting that here and there a gentle undulation waved and prolonged the blue shadow of the distant mountain. A few amber clouds floated in the sky, without a breath of air to move them. The horizon was of a fine golden tint, changing gradually into a pure apple green, and from that into the deep blue of the mid-heaven. A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests of the precipices...