The Biglow Papers, Volum 1

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John Camden Hotten, 1861 - 200 sider
 

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Side 70 - I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race where that immortal garland is to be run for not without dust and heat.
Side 58 - Polk, you know, he is our country. An' the angel thet writes all our sins in a book Puts the debit to him, an' to us the per contry; An' John P. Robinson he Sez this is his view o
Side 100 - I du believe with all my soul In the gret Press's freedom, To pint the people to the goal An' in the traces lead 'em; Palsied the arm thet forges yokes At my fat contracts squintin', An' withered be the nose thet pokes Inter the gov'ment printin'!
Side 101 - I du believe thet all o' me Doth bear his superscription, — Will, conscience, honor, honesty, An' things o' thet description. I du believe in prayer an' praise To him thet hez the grantin' O' jobs, — in every thin' thet pays, But most of all in CANTIN' ; This doth my cup with marcies fill, This lays all thought o' sin to rest, I don't believe in princerple, But O, I du in interest.
Side 28 - Haint they cut a thunderin' swarth (Helped by Yankee renegaders), Thru the vartu o' the North ! We begin to think it 's nater To take sarse an' not be riled; — jo Who 'd expect to see a tater All on eend at bein' biled ? Ez fer war, I call it murder, — There you hev it plain an...
Side 34 - In the days o' seventy-six. Clang the bells in every steeple, Call all true men to disown The tradoocers of our people, The enslavers o' their own; '*> Let our dear old Bay State proudly Put the trumpet to her mouth, Let her ring this messidge loudly In the ears of all the South : — "I '11 return ye good fer evil Much ez we frail mortils can, But I wun't go help the Devil Makin...
Side 98 - s wal enough agin a king To dror resolves an' triggers, — But libbaty 'sa kind o' thing Thet don't agree with niggers. I du believe the people want A tax on teas an...
Side 26 - ... em as i hoop you will Be, and said they wuz True grit. Hosea ses taint hardly fair to call 'em hisn now, cos the parson kind o...
Side 26 - ... eenamost enuf brass a bobbin up and down on his shoulders and figureed onto his coat and trousis, let alone wut nater hed sot in his featers, to make a 6 pounder out on. wal, Hosea he com home considerabal riled, and arter I 'd gone to bed I heern Him a thrashin round like a short-tailed Bull in fli-time.

Om forfatteren (1861)

James Russell Lowell (February 22, 1819 - August 12, 1891) was an American Romantic poet, critic, editor, and diplomat. He is associated with the Fireside Poets, a group of New England writers. But Lowell's real strengths as a writer are better found in his prose essays than in his verse. A man great in literary learning (he was professor of belles-lettres at Harvard College for many years), wise and passionate in his commitments, he was a great upholder of tradition and value. His essays on the great writers of England and Europe still endure, distinguished not only by their astute insights into the literary classics of Western culture, but also by their spectacular style and stunning wit. Lowell graduated from Harvard College in 1838 and went on to earn a law degree from Harvard Law School. He published his first collection of poetry in 1841. Nor was Lowell merely a dweller in an ivory tower. In his youth, he worked passionately for the cause of abolition, risking his literary reputation for a principle that he saw as absolute. In his middle years, he was founding editor of the Atlantic Monthly and guided it during its early years toward its enormous success. In his final years, this great example of American character and style represented the United States first as minister to Spain (1877--80), and afterwards to Great Britain (1880--85). Lowell was married twice: First to the poet Mary White Lowell, who died of tuberculosis, and second to Frances Dunlap. He died on August 12, 1891, at his home, Elmwood. He was buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery.

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