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The Prose Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Complete in One Volume
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1855
ancient ballads beautiful beneath body bright called century character church close comes cross dark death delight dialect earth English entered eyes face feeling Flemming France Friar German give grave green hand head hear heard heart heaven hill holy hour imagination Italy king lady land language leaves length light lives look Martin Franc mind monk morning mountains nature never night once passed play poem poet poetry poor present romance round Saint scene seemed seen shadow side silent sing song soon soul sound speak spirit stands stood street tell thee things thou thought took traveller trees true turned village voice walk walls whole wife wind window writings written
Side 76 - ... he cometh to you with words set in delightful proportion, either accompanied with, or prepared for, the well-enchanting skill of music; and with a tale, forsooth, he cometh unto you, with a tale which holdeth children from play and old men from the chimney corner...
Side 271 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale or piny mountain, Or forest, by slow stream or pebbly spring, Or chasms, and watery depths ; all these have vanished ; They live no longer in the faith of reason...
Side 285 - midst its dreary dells, Whose walls more awful nod By thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds, or driving rain, Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut, That from the mountain's side, Views wilds, and swelling floods, And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires, And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all Thy dewy fingers draw The gradual dusky veil.
Side 475 - Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar?
Side 293 - Ye ! who have traced the Pilgrim to the scene Which is his last, if in your memories dwell A thought which once was his, if on ye swell A single recollection, not in vain He wore his sandal-shoon and scallop-shell; Farewell ! with him alone may rest the pain, If such there were — with you, the moral of his strain.
Side 278 - Now therein of all sciences (I speak still of human, and according to the humane conceits) is our poet the monarch. For he doth not only show the way, but giveth so sweet a prospect into the way, as will entice any man to enter into it.
Side 280 - A. soul sheathed in a crystal shrine, Through which all her bright features shine ; As when a piece of wanton lawn, A thin...
Side 3 - Broad Grins,'' " My Nightgown and Slippers," and other Humorous Works, Prose and Poetical, of GEORGE COLMAN. With Life by GB BUCKSTONE, and Frontispiece by HOGARTH. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, gilt, 7s.
Side 590 - I have trodden the wine-press alone, and of the people there was none with me : for I will tread them in mine anger, and trample them in my fury, and their blood shall be sprinkled upon my garments, and I will stain all my raiment.