A Literary History of AmericaC. Scribner's sons, 1900 - Всего страниц: 574 |
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... true masters of the earth . If all record of a nation's progress were blotted out , and its literature were yet left us , might we not recover the out- lines of its lost history ? It is , then , with the literature of nations , that the ...
... true masters of the earth . If all record of a nation's progress were blotted out , and its literature were yet left us , might we not recover the out- lines of its lost history ? It is , then , with the literature of nations , that the ...
Стр. 10
... true : neither in itself pre- sents much literary variety , and most of what was published in each has already been forgotten . Our task , then , is becoming plainer ; it is to glance at the literary history of America dur- ing the ...
... true : neither in itself pre- sents much literary variety , and most of what was published in each has already been forgotten . Our task , then , is becoming plainer ; it is to glance at the literary history of America dur- ing the ...
Стр. 15
... true harmony with the will of God , a proof of emancipation from the hereditary curse of ▾ the children of Adam ; whoever could do right , and wish to , had a fair ground for hope that he should be saved . But even the elect were ...
... true harmony with the will of God , a proof of emancipation from the hereditary curse of ▾ the children of Adam ; whoever could do right , and wish to , had a fair ground for hope that he should be saved . But even the elect were ...
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... true will of God was revealed , directly or by implication , only and wholly in Scripture ; incessant study of Scripture was the sole means by which any man could assure himself that his will was really exerting itself , through the ...
... true will of God was revealed , directly or by implication , only and wholly in Scripture ; incessant study of Scripture was the sole means by which any man could assure himself that his will was really exerting itself , through the ...
Стр. 17
... true health and strength were gone . Calvin wrote in the populous Europe of the Renaissance , where at once the whole system of medieval life was doomed , and the pitiless pressure of economic fact was already forcing the more ...
... true health and strength were gone . Calvin wrote in the populous Europe of the Renaissance , where at once the whole system of medieval life was doomed , and the pitiless pressure of economic fact was already forcing the more ...
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admirable American American Revolution ancestral antislavery Artemus Ward artistic aspect Atlantic Monthly beauty began beginning born Boston Brockden Brown Brook Farm Bryant Calvinistic career character characteristic Church Civil colonies contemporary Cotton Mather developed divine dominant eighteenth century Elizabethan Emerson eminent England English literature expression fact familiar father feel glance Hartford Wits Harvard College Hawthorne Holmes human nature humour ideals Irving John Jonathan Edwards Knickerbocker language later less letters literary history lived Longfellow Lowell Massachusetts minister native native American never nineteenth century novels period phrase poem poet poetry political popular produced prose proved published Puritan records reform region Renaissance Revolution romantic seems sense seventeenth century Shakspere social spirit story sure temper Theodore Parker things throughout Ticknor tion traditions Transcendentalism Transcendentalists truth Uncle Tom's Cabin Unitarianism verse William writing wrote Yankee York
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Стр. 134 - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone : Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve; 101 She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair...
Стр. 399 - And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays : Whether we look, or whether we listen. We hear life murmur or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers.
Стр. 399 - 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?
Стр. 389 - Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Стр. 252 - When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood!
Стр. 361 - The house-dog on his paws outspread Laid to the fire his drowsy head, The cat's dark silhouette on the wall A couchant tiger's seemed to fall; And, for the winter fireside meet, Between the andirons...
Стр. 470 - A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands, How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
Стр. 90 - Little of all we value here Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year Without both feeling and looking queer. In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth, So far as I know, but a tree and truth.
Стр. 250 - VENERABLE MEN ! you have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this joyous day. You are now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife for your country. Behold, how altered! The same heavens are indeed over your heads; the same ocean rolls at your feet; but all else how changed!
Стр. 197 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, which moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.