Literature in the Common SchoolsLittle, Brown,, 1908 - 227 pàgines |
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
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Passatges populars
Pàgina 33 - It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul, — Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars ! It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood, Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
Pàgina 29 - Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very noble and approved good masters, That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, It is most true; true, I have married her. The very head and front of my offending Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in speech, And little blest with the soft phrase of peace
Pàgina 31 - thanked me, And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake ; She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I lov'd her that she did pity them. This only is the witchcraft I have us'd.
Pàgina 62 - By the shores of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis. Dark behind it rose the forest, Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees, Rose the firs with cones upon them; Bright before it beat the water, Beat the clear and sunny water, Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.
Pàgina 32 - bark climb hills of seas Olympus-high, and duck again as low As hell's from heaven ! If it were now to die, 'T were now to be most happy ; for, I fear, My soul hath her content so absolute, That not another comfort like
Pàgina 42 - Like some tall cliff, that rears its awful form, Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Pàgina 33 - Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars ! It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood, Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
Pàgina 63 - There the wrinkled old Nokomis Nursed the little Hiawatha, Rocked him in his linden cradle, Bedded soft in moss and rushes, Safely bound with reindeer sinews; Stilled his fretful wail by saying, ' Hush ! the Naked Bear will hear thee !' Lulled him into slumber, singing, 'Ewa-yea! my little owlet!
Pàgina 53 - ethereal world. Poetry thus makes immortal all that is best and most beautiful in the world. Poetry redeems from decay the visitations of the Divinity in man. Poetry turns all things to loveliness; it exalts the beauty of that which is most beautiful, and it adds beauty to that which is
Pàgina 35 - of one whose subdued eyes Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicinable gum. Set you down this; And say besides, that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk Beat a Venetian and traduc'd the state, I took by the throat the circumcised dog, And smote him — thus.