The Library of Literary Criticism of English and American Authors: 1855-1874Charles Wells Moulton Moulton publishing Company, 1904 |
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
admirable American Literature anon Arthur Hugh Clough Barrett beauty Biography Brougham Century char character Charles Dickens Charlotte Brontë charm criticism delight DeQuincey Elizabeth Barrett Browning England English Literature Essays eyes fame fancy feeling friends genial genius GEORGE grace Hawthorne heart HENRY History human humor imagination intellectual Irving JAMES Jane Eyre JOHN knew Lady Landor language Leigh Hunt Letters literary living look Lord Macaulay Magazine manner Memoir memory ment mind moral Nathaniel Nathaniel Hawthorne nature ness never noble North American Review novel novelist passion perhaps philosophy poems poet poetic poetry popular prose reader remarkable Scarlet Letter seems sense Sketches spirit story style sympathy taste tender Thackeray Thackeray's things THOMAS Thomas DeQuincey Thoreau thought tion truth verse volumes Walter Savage Landor Washington Irving WILLIAM words writings written wrote
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 411 - O Captain! My Captain! O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done. The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But 6 heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red. Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain!
الصفحة 411 - My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is...
الصفحة 250 - From the higher mind of cultivated, all-questioning, but still conservative England, in this our puzzled generation, we do not know of any utterance in literature so characteristic as the poems of Arthur Hugh Clough." — ERASER'S MAGAZINE. Clunes THE STORY OF PAULINE: an Autobiography.
الصفحة 472 - Matched with this cameleopard — his fine wit Makes such a wound, the knife is lost in it ; A strain too learned for a shallow age, Too wise for selfish bigots ; let his page, Which charms the chosen spirits of the time. Fold itself up for the serener clime Of years to come, and find its recompense In that just expectation.
الصفحة 564 - ABOVE the pines the moon was slowly drifting, The river sang below ; The dim Sierras, far beyond, uplifting Their minarets of snow. The roaring camp-fire, with rude humor, painted The ruddy tints of health On haggard face and form that drooped and fainted In the fierce race for wealth ; Till one arose, and from his pack's scant treasure A hoarded volume drew, And cards were dropped from hands of listless leisure To hear the tale anew. And then, while round them...
الصفحة 451 - The History of the United States of America, from the Discovery of the Continent to the Organization of Government under the Federal Constitution. ... 3 vols. New York. 1849. 8° — [Second Series.] The History of the United States of America from the Adoption of the Federal Constitution to the End of the Sixteenth Congress.
الصفحة 390 - : cut the worst of them through the middle, and there will remain in this decimal fraction quite enough to satisfy my appetite for fame. I shall dine late ; but the dining-room will be well lighted, the guests few and select.
الصفحة 136 - I beg you to accept my best thanks for the uncommon degree of entertainment which I have received from the most excellently jocose history of New York. I am sensible that as a stranger to American parties and politics, I must lose much of the concealed satire of the piece...
الصفحة 340 - When Nature was shaping him, clay was not granted For making so full-sized a man as she wanted, So, to fill out her model, a little she spared From some finer-grained stuff for a woman prepared, And she could not have hit a more excellent plan For making him fully and perfectly man.
الصفحة 247 - The noble head, the eyes of furtive trust. All gone to speechless dust. And he our passing guest, Shy nature, too, and stung with life's unrest, Whom we too briefly had but could not hold, Who brought ripe Oxford's culture to our board, The Past's incalculable hoard, Mellowed by scutcheoned panes in cloisters old, Seclusions ivy-hushed, and pavements sweet With immemorial lisp of musing feet...