Papyrus Leaves: Poems, Stories, and Essays ...William Fearing Gill R. Worthington, 1880 - 383 ページ |
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answered asked Baroness beauty breath called church cried d'Entremont dark dead door dream duty eyes face father feel Gabriele genius hair hand Hanenstein Hawthorne head hear heard heart Henry Stevens horse hour housekeeper human Janet Jéromette John Raeburn John Wentworth knew lady letter light lips lived looked LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON Marc Mark Bradley Marquis mind morning Moses MUSCADINES Narwhale NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE nature Naumkeag never night Ole Bull once passion perhaps person pillar of mist Priscilla quiet Raeburn remember RICHARD HENRY STODDARD rose round seemed side silent sing Slabtown smile song soon soul spoke stood strange summer sweet talk tell things Thomas Moran thought tone took turned violin Virginians voice waited walk Wentworth wife WILKIE COLLINS woman words young
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86 ページ - To be some happy creature's palace; The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives ; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest, — In the nice ear of Nature, which song is the best?
398 ページ - 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 lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore!
32 ページ - His soul was made for the noblest society; he had in a short life exhausted the capabilities of this world; wherever there is knowledge, wherever there is virtue, wherever there is beauty, he will find a home.
11 ページ - The heart hath its own memory, like the mind, And in it are enshrined The precious keepsakes, into which is wrought The giver's loving thought. Only your love and your remembrance could Give life to this dead wood, And make these branches, leafless now so long, Blossom again in song.
105 ページ - As shadows, cast by cloud and sun, Flit o'er the summer grass, So, in thy sight, Almighty One ! Earth's generations pass. And while the years, an endless host, Come pressing swiftly on, The brightest names that earth can boast Just glisten, and are gone.
260 ページ - Liverpool is the most detestable place as a residence that ever my lot was cast in, — smoky, noisy, dirty, pestilential ; and the consulate is situated in the most detestable part of the city. The streets swarm with beggars by day and by night. You never saw the like ; and I pray that you may never see it in America. It is worth while coming across the sea in order to feel one's heart warm towards his own country ; and I feel it all the more because it is plain to be seen that a great many of the...
30 ページ - I hearing get, who had but ears, And sight, who had but eyes before; I moments live, who lived but years, And truth discern, who knew but learning's lore.
262 ページ - In this work he allowed no interference, he asked for no aid. He was shy of those whose intellectual power and literary fame might seem to give them a right to enter his sanctuary. In an assembly of illustrious authors and thinkers, he floated, reserved and silent, around the margin in the twilight of the room, and at last vanished into the outer darkness ; and when he was gone, Mr. Emerson said of him : ' Hawthorne rides well his horse of the night.
125 ページ - Beside the driver sat, ordinarily, the old " mammy " of the family, or some other equally respectable and respected African woman, whose crimson or scarlet turban and orange neckerchief gave a dash of color to the picture, a trifle barbarous, perhaps, in combination, but none the less pleasant in its effect, for that. The young men came first, mounted on superb riding-horses, wearing great buckskin gauntlets and clad in full evening dress, — that being en regie always in Virginia, — with the...
94 ページ - ... played. He heard it with the inward ear all the time ; but for fear his parents were not so pervaded with the tune as he was, he would explain as he went along, telling how beautifully the bass came in at such and such a place. At five years old his uncle bought him a very small violin, as yellow as a lemon. He says he never felt carried up into the third heaven as he did when his own little hand first brought out a tune from that yellow violin. He loved it and kissed it ; it seemed to him so...