A History of Literature in AmericaC. Scribner's sons, 1904 - 443 páginas |
Conteúdo
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Outras edições - Ver todos
A History of Literature in America Barrett Wendell,Chester Noyes Greenough Visualização completa - 1904 |
A History of Literature in America Barrett Wendell,Chester Noyes Greenough Visualização completa - 1907 |
A History of Literature in America Barrett Wendell,Chester Noyes Greenough Visualização completa - 1904 |
Termos e frases comuns
American Revolution antislavery Bay Psalm Book began beginning BIBLIOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY AND CRITICISM born Boston Brockden Brown Bryant Calvinism Calvinistic character characteristic Civil colonies contemporary Cotton Mather developed dominant Dryden Duyckinck edition eighteenth century Elizabethan Emerson eminent England English literature essays expression fact feel finally Franklin George glance Hartford Wits Harvard College Hawthorne Holmes Houghton human ideals Irving James John John Winthrop Jonathan Edwards later letters lish literary history literature in America lived Longfellow Lowell lyric Massachusetts minister Nathaniel Hawthorne national inexperience native native American never novels period phases poems poet poetry political Poor Richard's Almanac popular prose published Puritan Queen reform Renaissance Richard Mather romantic seems sense seventeenth century Shakspere social spirit spontaneity Stedman and Hutchinson stories style temper things throughout Ticknor tion tradition Tyler Unitarian verse vols volumes Whittier William Winthrop writing wrote Yankee York
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 163 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, which moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Página 162 - Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days ! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise.
Página 292 - The house-dog on his paws outspread Laid to the fire his drowsy head, The cat's dark silhouette on the wall A couchant tiger's seemed to fall; And, for the winter fireside meet, Between the andirons...
Página 256 - Is it not the chief disgrace in the world, not to be an unit; not to be reckoned one character; not to yield that peculiar fruit which each man was created to bear, but to be reckoned in the gross, in the hundred, or the thousand, of the party, the section, to which we belong; and our opinion predicted geographically, as the north, or the south?
Página 264 - Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.
Página 38 - You sinners are, and such a share As sinners may expect, Such you shall have; for I do save None but mine own elect. Yet to compare your sin with their, Who lived a longer time, I do confess yours is much less, Though every sin's a crime.
Página 271 - I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
Página 80 - O sinner! Consider the fearful danger you are in: it is a great furnace of wrath, a wide and bottomless pit, full of the fire of wrath, that you are held over in the hand of that God, whose wrath is provoked and incensed as much against you, as against many of the damned in hell. You hang by a slender thread, with the flames of divine wrath flashing about it, and ready every moment to singe it, and burn it asunder...
Página 86 - I contrived to be in the printing-house alone, evading as much as I could the common attendance on public worship which my father used to exact of me when I was under his care, and which indeed I still thought a duty, though I could not, as it seemed to me, afford time to practise it.
Página 39 - When I behold the heavens as in their prime, And then the earth, though old, still clad in green, The stones and trees insensible of time, Nor age nor wrinkle on their front are seen; If winter come, and greenness then do fade, A spring returns, and they more youthful made. But man grows old, lies down, remains where once he's laid.