The Sketch BookAllyn and Bacon, 1895 - 423 sider |
Fra bogen
Resultater 1-5 af 59
Side 10
... deep rivers , rolling in solemn silence to the ocean ; her trackless forests , where vegetation puts forth all its magnificence ; her skies , kindling with the magic of summer clouds and glorious sunshine ; — no , never need an American ...
... deep rivers , rolling in solemn silence to the ocean ; her trackless forests , where vegetation puts forth all its magnificence ; her skies , kindling with the magic of summer clouds and glorious sunshine ; — no , never need an American ...
Side 14
... deep , and of the air , and rather tend to abstract the mind from worldly themes . I delighted to loll over the quarter - rail- ing , or climb to the main - top , of a calm day , and muse for hours together on the tranquil bosom of a ...
... deep , and of the air , and rather tend to abstract the mind from worldly themes . I delighted to loll over the quarter - rail- ing , or climb to the main - top , of a calm day , and muse for hours together on the tranquil bosom of a ...
Side 15
... lie whitening among the caverns of the deep . Silence , oblivion , like the waves , have closed over them , and no one can tell the story of their end . What over - 1 sighs have been wafted after that ship ! what The Voyage . 15.
... lie whitening among the caverns of the deep . Silence , oblivion , like the waves , have closed over them , and no one can tell the story of their end . What over - 1 sighs have been wafted after that ship ! what The Voyage . 15.
Side 16
... deep ! How has expectation darkened into anxiety — anxi- ety into dread — and dread into despair ! Alas ! not one memento may ever return for love to cherish . All that may ever be known , is , that she sailed from her port , " and was ...
... deep ! How has expectation darkened into anxiety — anxi- ety into dread — and dread into despair ! Alas ! not one memento may ever return for love to cherish . All that may ever be known , is , that she sailed from her port , " and was ...
Side 17
... Deep called unto deep . At times the black volume of clouds overhead seemed rent asunder by flashes of lightning which quivered along the foaming billows , and made the succeeding darkness doubly terrible . The thunders bel- lowed over ...
... Deep called unto deep . At times the black volume of clouds overhead seemed rent asunder by flashes of lightning which quivered along the foaming billows , and made the succeeding darkness doubly terrible . The thunders bel- lowed over ...
Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
abbey ancient antiquity appearance baron beauty bosom Bracebridge Canonchet castle character charm Christmas church churchyard cottage countenance custom Dame dance dark delight door earth Eastcheap Edward the Confessor Encyclopædia Britannica England English Falstaff fancy feelings flowers goblin grave green hall hand heard heart Ichabod Ichabod Crane Indian Irving John Bull kind lady land Little Britain living look mansion Master Simon melancholy merry mind mingled monuments morning mountain Narraganset nature neighborhood neighboring never night noble old English old gentleman once passed Philip poem poet poor pride quiet Rip Van Winkle round rural scene seated seemed Shakspeare Sleepy Hollow sometimes song sorrow soul sound spectre spirit squire story sweet tender thought tion tomb trees turn village wandering Wat Tyler Westminster Abbey whole wild William Walworth window Winkle worthy writers young
Populære passager
Side 153 - Lay a garland on my hearse, Of the dismal yew; Maidens, willow branches bear; Say I died true: My love was false, but I was firm From my hour of birth. Upon my buried body lie Lightly, gentle earth!
Side 42 - Van Winkle as years of matrimony rolled on ; a tart temper never mellows with age, and a sharp tongue is the only edged tool that grows keener with constant use. For a long while he used to console himself, when driven from home, by frequenting a kind of perpetual club of the sages, philosophers, and other idle personages of the village...
Side 44 - Eip lay musing on this scene; evening was gradually advancing, the mountains began to throw their long blue shadows over the valleys; he saw that it would be dark long before he could reach the village, and he heaved a heavy sigh when he thought of encountering the terrors of Dame Van Winkle. As he was about to descend, he heard a voice from a distance, hallooing, "Rip Van Winkle!
Side 52 - The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all awakened a train of recollections in his mind. "What is your name, my good woman ? " asked he.
Side 155 - With fairest flowers, Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose ; nor The azured hare-bell, like thy veins ; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Side 286 - Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise: Arise, arise.
Side 389 - Ichabod stole forth with the air of one who had been sacking a hen-roost, rather than a fair lady's heart. Without looking to the right or left to notice the scene of rural wealth, on which he had so often gloated, he went straight to the stable, and with several hearty cuffs and kicks, roused his steed most uncourteously from the comfortable quarters in which he was soundly sleeping, dreaming of mountains of corn and oats, and whole valleys of timothy and clover.
Side 49 - ... passed. The very village was altered ; it was larger and more populous. There were rows of houses which he had never seen before, and those which had been his familiar haunts had disappeared. Strange names were over the doors — strange faces at the windows — everything was strange.
Side 39 - The children of the village, too, would shout with joy whenever he approached. He assisted at their sports, made their playthings, taught them to fly kites and shoot marbles, and told them long stories of ghosts, witches, and Indians. Whenever he went dodging about the village, he was surrounded by a troop of them, hanging on his skirts, clambering on his back, and playing a thousand tricks on him with impunity ; and not a dog would bark at him throughout the neighbourhood.
Side 54 - To make a long story short, the company broke up, and returned to the more important concerns of the election. Rip's daughter took him home to live with her; she had a snug, wellfurnished house, and a stout cheery farmer for a husband, whom Rip recollected for one of the urchins that used to climb upon his back. As to Rip's son and heir, who was the ditto of himself, seen leaning against the tree, he was employed to work on the farm; but evinced an hereditary disposition to attend to any thing else...