The Crane Reader, Book 5Crane, 1902 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 59
Page 34
... looks ! I hate him for that he is a Christian ; But more , for that , in low simplicity , He lends out money gratis , and brings down The rate of usuance with us here in Venice . If I but catch him once upon the hip , I will feed fat ...
... looks ! I hate him for that he is a Christian ; But more , for that , in low simplicity , He lends out money gratis , and brings down The rate of usuance with us here in Venice . If I but catch him once upon the hip , I will feed fat ...
Page 38
... look upon . She seemed a creature FRESH from the hand of GOD , and waiting for the breath of life ; not one who had lived and suffered DEATH . Her couch was dressed with here and there some winter berries and green leaves , gathered in ...
... look upon . She seemed a creature FRESH from the hand of GOD , and waiting for the breath of life ; not one who had lived and suffered DEATH . Her couch was dressed with here and there some winter berries and green leaves , gathered in ...
Page 39
... look down Upon the naked earth ; and forthwith rose All these fair ranks of trees . They in Thy sun Budded , and shook their green leaves in Thy breeze , And shot towards heaven . The century - living crow , Whose birth was in their ...
... look down Upon the naked earth ; and forthwith rose All these fair ranks of trees . They in Thy sun Budded , and shook their green leaves in Thy breeze , And shot towards heaven . The century - living crow , Whose birth was in their ...
Page 40
... Look what a nice new coat is mine ; 66 Sure , there was never a bird so fine . Chee , chee , chee . " Joyous or Animated . 1. ' The slogan's ceased but hark ! din ye na hear The Campbells ' pibroch swell upon the breeze ! They're coming ...
... Look what a nice new coat is mine ; 66 Sure , there was never a bird so fine . Chee , chee , chee . " Joyous or Animated . 1. ' The slogan's ceased but hark ! din ye na hear The Campbells ' pibroch swell upon the breeze ! They're coming ...
Page 45
... look for greener graves ? Hope ye mercy still ? What's the mercy despots feel ? Hear it in yon battle - peal ! Read it -- — on yon bristling steel ! Ask it , ye who will ! Command . Begone , Run to your houses , fall upon your knees ...
... look for greener graves ? Hope ye mercy still ? What's the mercy despots feel ? Hear it in yon battle - peal ! Read it -- — on yon bristling steel ! Ask it , ye who will ! Command . Begone , Run to your houses , fall upon your knees ...
Common terms and phrases
Abraham Davenport ALICE CARY American arms beautiful Biddleville bless Boabdil born breath Bright Angel trail Brutus Bucky O'Neil cable Cæsar called canyon Cheyne child clouds dark dead death deep dream Duhobret earth educated England eyes fall father fear feet flowers friends genius give gray Greeley hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven HENRY HENRY WARD BEECHER hills honor hour human hundred JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE king labor land leaves light live look Lord LYDIA MARIA CHILD miles mind morning mother nature never night noble o'er ocean OLIVER GOLDSMITH Placerville poems poor rich Ring rise river sail ship shore shout silent Sir Launfal snow soul sound speak stood sweet tell thee THOMAS CARLYLE thou thought thousand trees unto valley voice waters wild wind words young
Popular passages
Page 291 - Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap, forlorn! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn!
Page 309 - Peace — but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish ? What would they have ? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery ? Forbid it, Almighty God ! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
Page 323 - 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 102 - 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!
Page 306 - Are we disposed to be of the number of those, who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation ? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth ; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
Page 340 - Break, break, break On thy cold gray stones, O sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!
Page 322 - Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world, — with kings, The powerful of the earth, — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.
Page 308 - If we wish to be free; if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges, for which we have been so long contending ; if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle, in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, — we must fight! — I repeat it, sir, we must fight ! An appeal to arms, and to the God of hosts, is all that is left us.
Page 258 - Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge, and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Page 301 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers: they to me Were a delight; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror, 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was, as it were, a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane, as I do here.