The New England Magazine, Том 6;Том 12New England Magazine Company, 1892 |
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Стр. 7
... passed his days in a placid doze , pocketed my pride , looked the situation squarely in the face , and determined I would stay on to the bitter end . My word must be as good as my bond . " By degrees all the hard work of the family was ...
... passed his days in a placid doze , pocketed my pride , looked the situation squarely in the face , and determined I would stay on to the bitter end . My word must be as good as my bond . " By degrees all the hard work of the family was ...
Стр. 18
... thest , of зет promised timenty zem I dont word so mony tim , hime for myself дед for alters , & ~ time to die 2 те воз , зе A Portion of Miss Alcott's Last Letter . сев next room . she passed through the open doors of.
... thest , of зет promised timenty zem I dont word so mony tim , hime for myself дед for alters , & ~ time to die 2 те воз , зе A Portion of Miss Alcott's Last Letter . сев next room . she passed through the open doors of.
Стр. 29
... passed . Examination day was over , with its array of delighted parents and august school- committee . The young teacher looked worried . It was a trying ordeal for her , no doubt . At last the guests had de- parted , the children had ...
... passed . Examination day was over , with its array of delighted parents and august school- committee . The young teacher looked worried . It was a trying ordeal for her , no doubt . At last the guests had de- parted , the children had ...
Стр. 32
... passed over my life . I want to tell you about it , my friend . " The friend's face was pitiful to look upon ; but by reason of the falling shadows , and his own earnestness , the other took no heed . He went on : " Long time have I ...
... passed over my life . I want to tell you about it , my friend . " The friend's face was pitiful to look upon ; but by reason of the falling shadows , and his own earnestness , the other took no heed . He went on : " Long time have I ...
Стр. 33
... passed on the homeward way might have been strewn with lilies of midsummer for aught the young man knew . His buried hope had arisen to a deathless resurrec- tion . Before the snow had melted into the singing brooks of the springtime ...
... passed on the homeward way might have been strewn with lilies of midsummer for aught the young man knew . His buried hope had arisen to a deathless resurrec- tion . Before the snow had melted into the singing brooks of the springtime ...
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Abigail Williams Alcott American Ann Putnam beautiful better Boston boys Bridget Bishop Buenos Aires building called Cape Ann cents Chicago Chicago River choir church club colony color court door Endeavor England eyes face farm father feel fire friends girl give Gloucester Hampton hand Harvard Observatory heart Hill hundred Indian interest Jenny Lind John Lake Lake Michigan land Lennette light live look Margaret Jacobs Mary Easty Mary Walcott ment miles Miss morning mother never night Procter Puritan river Rose Salem seemed ship shore side sing society South spirit Squire stood Street summer tell thet things thought tion to-day told took town tree turned village voice Watertown West wife Winthrop witchcraft woman words young
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Стр. 307 - In the discussions to which this interest has given rise and in the arrangements by which they may terminate the occasion has been judged proper for asserting, as a principle in which the rights and interests of the United States are involved, that the American continents, by the free and independent condition which they have assumed and maintain, are henceforth not to be considered as subjects for future colonization by any European powers.
Стр. 751 - As ancient is this hostelry As any in the land may be, Built in the old Colonial day, When men lived in a grander way, With ampler hospitality...
Стр. xiii - Ay! Since the galloping Normans came, England's annals have known her name; And still to the three-hilled rebel town Dear is that ancient name's renown, For many a civic wreath they won, The youthful sire and the gray-haired son.
Стр. 505 - Puritan anthem, She, the Puritan girl, in the solitude of the forest, Making the humble house and the modest apparel of home-spun Beautiful with her beauty, and rich with the wealth of her being!
Стр. 131 - We don't want to fight, but by jingo if we do, We've got the ships, we've got the men, we've got the money too.
Стр. 674 - In which sad progress, passing along by the rest of the army where his uncle the general was and being thirsty with excess of bleeding, he called for drink, which was presently brought him, but as he was putting the bottle to his mouth, he saw a poor soldier carried along who had eaten his last at die same feast, ghastly casting up his eyes at the bottle.
Стр. 631 - There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer.
Стр. xiii - Stately and slow, with thoughtful air, His black cap hiding his whitened hair, Walks the Judge of the great Assize, Samuel Sewall the good and wise. His face with lines of firmness wrought, He wears the look of a man unbought, Who swears to his hurt and changes not; Yet, touched and softened nevertheless With the grace of Christian gentleness, The face that a child would climb to kiss! True and tender and brave and just, That man might honor and woman trust.
Стр. 812 - The direct trial of him who would be the greatest poet is today. If he does not flood himself with the immediate age as with vast oceanic tides and...
Стр. 262 - Where'er a human heart doth wear Joy's myrtle-wreath or sorrow's gyves, Where'er a human spirit strives After a life more true and fair, There is the true man's birthplace grand, His is a world-wide fatherland ! Where'er a single slave doth pine, Where'er one man may help another, — Thank God for such a birthright, brother, — That spot of earth is thine and mine ! There is the true man's birthplace grand, His is a world-wide fatherland...