The Sparrowgrass Papers: Or, Living in the CountryDerby & Jackson, 1856 - Всего страниц: 328 |
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Стр. 33
... beautiful . South of us a grey rain - curtain was drawn across the river , shutting out every- thing beyond , except the spectral masts and spars of a schooner riding at anchor . The Palisades started up in the gloom , as their ...
... beautiful . South of us a grey rain - curtain was drawn across the river , shutting out every- thing beyond , except the spectral masts and spars of a schooner riding at anchor . The Palisades started up in the gloom , as their ...
Стр. 34
... rugged Palisades lay warm and beautiful under the evening sun . Now the sun sinks amid melted topaz and rubies ; and above it , on one side , stretching aloft from the rocky precipices high up in the 34 SPARROWGRASS PAPERS .
... rugged Palisades lay warm and beautiful under the evening sun . Now the sun sinks amid melted topaz and rubies ; and above it , on one side , stretching aloft from the rocky precipices high up in the 34 SPARROWGRASS PAPERS .
Стр. 39
... beautiful phenomenon . On the Fourth of July we had company from town . " Dear , " said Mrs. S. , " have you seen our cherry ? " I answered , that I had set out many trees of that kind , and did not know which one she alluded to ( at ...
... beautiful phenomenon . On the Fourth of July we had company from town . " Dear , " said Mrs. S. , " have you seen our cherry ? " I answered , that I had set out many trees of that kind , and did not know which one she alluded to ( at ...
Стр. 46
... beautiful silky tail . He is a pup , and much caressed by the young ones . One day he went off to the butcher's , and came back with no more tail than a toad . The whole bunch of young Sparrowgrasses began to bawl when he reached the ...
... beautiful silky tail . He is a pup , and much caressed by the young ones . One day he went off to the butcher's , and came back with no more tail than a toad . The whole bunch of young Sparrowgrasses began to bawl when he reached the ...
Стр. 80
... beautiful fables of poets are only truths in parables when they relate to the hearth - stone - the heart - stone , I may say , of home ! " This fine sentiment did not move Mrs. Sparrow- grass a whit . She said she was sleepy . After all ...
... beautiful fables of poets are only truths in parables when they relate to the hearth - stone - the heart - stone , I may say , of home ! " This fine sentiment did not move Mrs. Sparrow- grass a whit . She said she was sleepy . After all ...
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Adolphus Algonquin asked Augusta beautiful bill of lading birds Bloomingdale blue boat Broome county cantelopes Captain Belgrave Captain Davis Carrier Pigeon charming clouds dear door dress dumb waiter eyes face feel feet fresh friends fyke garden grass hand head hear heard heart Honiton horse Iroquois keep lady Lasciver legs living look maize Mewker mind morning neighbor Nepperhan never night Oakery old Dockweed once packet ship Palisades pleasant pond pretty Quaker rain replied ride river road rocks rose rowgrass Santa Claus SEBA SMITH seemed shore side sing smile snow Spar Sparrow Sparrowgrass Spec and Shat stable stone stood story Sumach summer sweet tell thing thought told took town trees turned Ultramarine village wagon walked wigwams window winter wonderful Yonkers young
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Стр. 83 - Here are sweet peas, on tip-toe for a flight: With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings.
Стр. 35 - THE splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Стр. 67 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason.
Стр. 38 - But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted.
Стр. 246 - To one who has been long in city pent, "Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven,— to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament. Who is more happy, when, with heart's content, Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair Of wavy grass, and reads a debonair And gentle tale of love and languishment? Returning home at evening, with an ear Catching the notes of Philomel, — an eye...
Стр. 59 - Earth, ocean, air, beloved brotherhood ! If our great Mother has imbued my soul With aught of natural piety to feel Your love, and recompense the boon with mine ; If dewy morn, and odorous noon, and even, With sunset and its gorgeous ministers, And solemn midnight's tingling silentness ; If autumn's hollow sighs in the sere wood, And winter robing with pure snow and crowns Of starry ice the grey grass and bare boughs...
Стр. 141 - I was pleased with the exploit, but after a few minutes was seized with horror, as having in a sportive way killed an innocent creature while she was careful for her young. I beheld her lying dead and thought those young ones for which she was so careful must now perish for want of their dam to nourish them...
Стр. 102 - Earl's gift; but ever at a breath She linger'd, looking like a summer moon Half-dipt in cloud : anon she shook her head, And shower'd the rippled ringlets to her knee...
Стр. 197 - LORD, how manifold are thy works: in wisdom hast thou made them all ; the earth is full of thy riches.
Стр. 102 - The hard condition, but that she would loose The people; therefore, as they loved her well, From then till noon no foot should pace the street, No eye look down, she passing, but that all Should keep within, door shut, and window barr'd. Then fled she to her inmost bower, and there Unclasp'd the wedded eagles of her belt, The grim Earl's gift; but ever at a breath She linger'd, looking like a summer moon Half-dipt in cloud.