American Classics for Seventh and Eighth Grade Reading: With Biographical Sketches, Portraits and Suggestions for StudyHoughton Mifflin, 1905 - 437 pages |
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Page 5
... lived in the sixth or seventh century before Christ . He was said to have fallen asleep in a cave when a boy , and to have awaked at the end of fifty - seven years , his soul , meanwhile , having been growing in stature . There is the ...
... lived in the sixth or seventh century before Christ . He was said to have fallen asleep in a cave when a boy , and to have awaked at the end of fifty - seven years , his soul , meanwhile , having been growing in stature . There is the ...
Page 10
... lived many years since , while the country was yet a province of Great Britain , a simple , good - natured fellow , of the name of Rip Van Winkle . He was a descendant of the Van Winkles who figured so gallantly in the chivalrous days ...
... lived many years since , while the country was yet a province of Great Britain , a simple , good - natured fellow , of the name of Rip Van Winkle . He was a descendant of the Van Winkles who figured so gallantly in the chivalrous days ...
Page 32
... lived from 1700 to 1748. In it he describes a beautiful pal- ace with groves and lawns and flowery beds , where everything ministers to the ease and luxury of its lotus - eating inmates . He seems to have gathered his materials from ...
... lived from 1700 to 1748. In it he describes a beautiful pal- ace with groves and lawns and flowery beds , where everything ministers to the ease and luxury of its lotus - eating inmates . He seems to have gathered his materials from ...
Page 33
... lived , enlarged and improved it , and gave it the name of Sunnyside . Here he spent his declin- ing years , thus gratifying the wish implied in the text . HOLLOW , and its rustic lads are called the Sleepy THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW . 33.
... lived , enlarged and improved it , and gave it the name of Sunnyside . Here he spent his declin- ing years , thus gratifying the wish implied in the text . HOLLOW , and its rustic lads are called the Sleepy THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW . 33.
Page 38
... lived successively a week at a time , thus going the rounds of the neighborhood , with all his worldly effects tied up in a cotton handkerchief . That all this might not be too onerous on the purses of his rustic patrons , who are apt ...
... lived successively a week at a time , thus going the rounds of the neighborhood , with all his worldly effects tied up in a cotton handkerchief . That all this might not be too onerous on the purses of his rustic patrons , who are apt ...
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Common terms and phrases
Acadian American ANNABEL LEE Annapolis River Basil bear beauty behold bells BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH bird character church dark death deciduous door Emerson England English Ernest Evangeline eyes farmer father forest French friends Gabriel gleamed Grand-Pré hand head heard heart heaven Henry hill House of Burgesses Ichabod Ichabod Crane Indian Israfel labor land light literary literature lived looked maiden meadows morning mountain nature neighboring never Nevermore night Nova Scotia o'er passed pine Poe's poem poet poetry prairies priest published Quoth the Raven RALPH WALDO EMERSON Raven Rip Van Winkle river rose round seemed shadow shore side silence Sir Launfal Sleepy Hollow smile song sorrow soul sound speech spirit Stone Face stood story stream sweet thee thou thought tion tonian tree trout valley village Virginia voice volume Washington wind winter wonder woods words
Popular passages
Page 194 - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.
Page 362 - All alone, And who tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone — They are neither man nor woman — They are neither brute nor human — They are Ghouls: And their king it is who tolls; And he rolls, rolls, rolls, Rolls A paean from the bells!
Page 175 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Page 352 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore, Nameless here for evermore.
Page 159 - Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers.
Page 357 - This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...
Page 176 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there : And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep— the dead reign there alone.
Page 129 - Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play! Who hath not learned, in hours of faith, The truth to flesh and sense unknown, That Life is ever lord of Death, And Love can never lose its own!
Page 194 - NAUTILUS This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main, — The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.
Page 26 - Rip looked and beheld a precise counterpart of himself as he went up the mountain, apparently as lazy and certainly as ragged. The poor fellow was now completely confounded. He doubted his own identity, and whether he was himself or another man. In the midst of his bewilderment, the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name. "God knows," exclaimed he, at his wit's end; "I'm not myself.