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Hand-Book of American Literature, Historical, Biographical, and Critical ...
No preview available - 2018
Hand-Book of American Literature, Historical, Biographical, and Critical
Joseph Gostwick,Margaret E. Foster
No preview available - 2015
adventures American appeared beautiful born Boston called character characteristic course criticism described doctrine early effect England English entitled essays example expression eyes fact feeling fiction forest friends give given hand heart human imagination Indian interest Italy John labour Lake land leave letters light literary literature live look manner Mather means mind moral native nature never North notice numerous opinion original passages passed period person poems poet poetry political present published quoted readers regarded religious remarkable returned Review river says scenes seems seen short sketches society soon specimens spirit story style success tale tales taste things thought true turn United verse views volume whole writer written wrote York young
Page 55 - 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 94 - thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
Page 61 - She wore no funeral weeds for thee, Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, Like torn branch from death's leafless tree, In sorrow's pomp and pageantry. The heartless luxury of the tomb. But she remembers thee as one Long loved, and for a season gone. For thee her poet's lyre is wreathed, Her marble wrought, her music breathed; For thee she rings the birthday bells; Of thee her babes' first lisping tells; For thine her evening prayer is said At palace couch and cottage bed.
Page 88 - IT was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE ; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.
Page 56 - 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.
Page 92 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and. curious volume of forgotten lore — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " "Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.
Page 137 - To see him striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging and fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield.
Page 78 - We have not wings, we cannot soar ; But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, by more and more, The cloudy summits of our time.
Page 139 - In the porkers he saw carved out the future sleek side of bacon and juicy relishing ham; not a turkey but he beheld daintily trussed up, with its gizzard under its wing, and...