American LiteratureMerrill, Maynard, 1903 - 510 páginas |
Outras edições - Ver tudo
Palavras e frases frequentes
Abraham Lincoln Ameri artistic Ballads Bayard Taylor beauty Biography and Criticism born Boston Bryant Channing character charm Class Reading colonial Concord Cooper Curtis delight early Emerson England English Essays expression fame father fiction Franklin friends genius George William Curtis grace Halleck Harvard Hawthorne Hawthorne's heart Henry Higginson History Holmes honor Houghton humor ideal Indian influence interest James James Russell Lowell John John Greenleaf Whittier language Letters literary lived Longfellow Lowell Lowell's Nathaniel Hawthorne Nathaniel Parker Willis nature never novel Oliver Wendell Holmes Orations passion patriotism period poems poet poetic poetry political popular prose published Puritan qualities Ralph Waldo Emerson readers Revolution Richardson's American Literature romance satire says sketches song soul speech spirit Stedman story style taste Thoreau thought tion verse volume Washington Irving Webster Wendell Whittier William William Cullen Bryant writing wrote York
Passagens conhecidas
Página 134 - The hills Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,— the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods— rivers that move 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 336 - Out of the hills of Habersham, Down the valleys of Hall, I hurry amain to reach the plain, Run the rapid and leap the fall, Split at the rock and together again, Accept my bed, or narrow or wide, And flee from folly on every side With a lover's pain to attain the plain Far from the hills of Habersham, Far from the valleys of Hall. All down the hills of Habersham, All through the valleys of Hall, The rushes cried Abide, abide...
Página 109 - Our day of dependence, our long apprenticeship to the learning of other lands, draws to a close. The millions that around us are rushing into life, cannot always be fed on the sere remains of foreign harvests.
Página 93 - FAIR flower, that dost so comely grow, Hid in this silent, dull retreat, Untouched thy honied blossoms blow, Unseen thy little branches greet: No roving foot shall crush thee here, No busy hand provoke a tear. By Nature's self in white arrayed, She bade thee shun the vulgar eye, And planted here the guardian shade, And sent soft waters murmuring by; Thus quietly thy summer goes, Thy days declining to repose. Smit with those charms, that must decay, I grieve to see your...
Página 243 - I LOVE the old melodious lays Which softly melt the ages through, The songs of Spenser's golden days, Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase, Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew. Yet, vainly in my quiet hours To breathe their marvellous notes I try ; I feel them, as the leaves and flowers In silence feel the dewy showers, And drink with glad still lips the blessing of the sky. The...
Página 179 - His eye for a fine, telling phrase that will carry true is like that of a backwoodsman for a rifle ; and he will dredge you up a choice word from the mud of Cotton Mather himself. A diction at once so rich and so homely as his I know not where to match in these days of writing by the page ; it is like homespun cloth-of-gold.
Página 336 - Tolerant plains, that suffer the sea and the rains and the sun, Ye spread and span like the catholic man who hath mightily won The Marshes of Glynn 1429 God out of knowledge and good out of infinite pain And sight out of blindness and purity out of a stain.
Página 189 - He had caught his English at its living source, among the poets and prosewriters of its best days; his literature was extensive and recondite; his quotations are always nuggets of the purest ore: there are sentences of his as perfect as anything in the language, and thoughts as clearly crystallized; his metaphors and images are always fresh from the soil...
Página 45 - Holiness, as I then wrote down some of my contemplations on it, appeared to me to be of a sweet, pleasant, charming, serene, calm nature; which brought an inexpressible purity, brightness, pencefulness and ravishment to the soul.
Página 119 - Abbey, buried in the bosom of a quiet valley, and shut up from the world, as though it had existed merely for itself; or a warrior pile, like Conway Castle, standing in stern loneliness on its rocky height, a mere hollow yet threatening phantom of departed power.