American Literary ReadingsLeonidas Warren Payne Rand McNally, 1917 - 647 páginas |
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Página 37
... wind , and his empty sarcophagus is now the mere curiosity of a museum . " The Egyptian mummies , which Cambyses or time hath spared , avarice now consumeth ; Mizraim cures wounds , and Pharaoh is sold for balsams . " 890 What then is ...
... wind , and his empty sarcophagus is now the mere curiosity of a museum . " The Egyptian mummies , which Cambyses or time hath spared , avarice now consumeth ; Mizraim cures wounds , and Pharaoh is sold for balsams . " 890 What then is ...
Página 59
... winds , and naked woods , and meadows brown and sere . " and closes with a beautiful tribute to his beloved sister , who had died in the autumn . Other editions of the poems appeared from time to time , and by 1864 Bryant had garnered a ...
... winds , and naked woods , and meadows brown and sere . " and closes with a beautiful tribute to his beloved sister , who had died in the autumn . Other editions of the poems appeared from time to time , and by 1864 Bryant had garnered a ...
Página 65
... winds , and naked woods , and meadows brown and sere . Heaped in the hollows of the grove , the autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust , and to the rabbit's tread . The robin and the wren are flown , and from the ...
... winds , and naked woods , and meadows brown and sere . Heaped in the hollows of the grove , the autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust , and to the rabbit's tread . The robin and the wren are flown , and from the ...
Página 66
... wind - flower and the violet , they perished long ago , And the brier - rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow ; 15 But on the hill the golden - rod , and the aster in the wood , And the yellow sun - flower by the brook in autumn ...
... wind - flower and the violet , they perished long ago , And the brier - rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow ; 15 But on the hill the golden - rod , and the aster in the wood , And the yellow sun - flower by the brook in autumn ...
Página 81
... Winds blow south or winds blow north , Day come white , or night come black , Home , or rivers and mountains from home , Singing all time , minding no time , While we two keep together . Till of a sudden , May - be kill'd , unknown to ...
... Winds blow south or winds blow north , Day come white , or night come black , Home , or rivers and mountains from home , Singing all time , minding no time , While we two keep together . Till of a sudden , May - be kill'd , unknown to ...
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Termos e frases comuns
Acadian American beauty bird Bob-o'-link Bryant called Carbuncle chee Chingachgook dark dead death door earth Emerson England Evangeline eyes face father forest friends gleam grave gray hand Hawk-eye Hawthorne head hear heard heart heaven hills Holmes Indian James Fenimore Cooper laugh Leatherstocking Tales leave Leaves of Grass letter light literary literature live Longfellow look Lowell maiden morning mountain Natty Bumppo nature never night o'er passed poems poet poetry prose RALPH WALDO EMERSON Rip Van Winkle river round seemed shadow shore side silent sing Sir Launfal song Sophocles soul sound Spink spirit star stood story strange sweet tell thee thing Thoreau thou thought tomb tree Twice-told Tales verse village voice volume Walt Whitman Whitman Whittier wild WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT wind wonder woods words young youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 64 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Página 65 - Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Página 63 - In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green,- and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.
Página 63 - The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings, yet the dead are there...
Página 142 - DAYS. DAUGHTERS of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring diadems and fagots in their hands. To each they offer gifts after his will, Bread, kingdoms, stars, and sky that holds them all. I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp, Forgot my morning wishes, hastily Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day Turned and departed silent. I, too late, Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.
Página 96 - O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up— for you the flag is flung— for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths— for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain!
Página 64 - 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...
Página 139 - By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world. The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And Time the ruined bridge has swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. On this green bank, by this soft stream, We set to-day a votive stone; That memory may their deed redeem, When, like our sires, our sons are gone. Spirit, that made those heroes dare To die,...
Página 66 - 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.
Página 96 - O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain!