Cyclopaedia of American Literature: Embracing Personal and Critical Notices of Authors, and Selections from Their Writings. From the Earliest Period to the Present Day; with Portraits, Autographs, and Other Illustrations, Volume 2, Part 2C. Scribner, 1855 - American literature |
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Page 384
... song of roligeres ; Shall our wild and selfish prayers Call thee back to mortal cares ? Sainted spirit ! fare thee well ! More than mortal tongue can tell Is the joy that even now Crowns our blessed martyr's brow ! Euphas Paulus , arise ...
... song of roligeres ; Shall our wild and selfish prayers Call thee back to mortal cares ? Sainted spirit ! fare thee well ! More than mortal tongue can tell Is the joy that even now Crowns our blessed martyr's brow ! Euphas Paulus , arise ...
Page 389
... song Strains of laughter run along . Now leaps the bow , with airy bound , Like dancer springing from the ground , And now like autumn wind comes sighing , Over leaves and blossoms dying . The lark now singeth from afar , Her carol to ...
... song Strains of laughter run along . Now leaps the bow , with airy bound , Like dancer springing from the ground , And now like autumn wind comes sighing , Over leaves and blossoms dying . The lark now singeth from afar , Her carol to ...
Page 396
... song , And ringing out mirth from our sadness , would say , " Sing the strains that to Zion belong . " O , how shall we sing the ineffable song In a godless and barbarous land ? If the minstrels of Salem could do her such wrong , Be ...
... song , And ringing out mirth from our sadness , would say , " Sing the strains that to Zion belong . " O , how shall we sing the ineffable song In a godless and barbarous land ? If the minstrels of Salem could do her such wrong , Be ...
Page 404
... SONG . She's fresh as breath of summer morn , She's fair as flowers in spring , And her voice it has the warbling ... songs , are flashing to the breeze . The woodsman , from the mother , takes his bog upon his knee , To tell him how ...
... SONG . She's fresh as breath of summer morn , She's fair as flowers in spring , And her voice it has the warbling ... songs , are flashing to the breeze . The woodsman , from the mother , takes his bog upon his knee , To tell him how ...
Page 407
... song on his lips And a drop in his eye . I'll not leave thee , thou rose - bud , To pine on the stem , Since the others are snoring , Go snore thou with them . Thus kindly I lay A soft plank ' neath thy head , Where thy mates of the ...
... song on his lips And a drop in his eye . I'll not leave thee , thou rose - bud , To pine on the stem , Since the others are snoring , Go snore thou with them . Thus kindly I lay A soft plank ' neath thy head , Where thy mates of the ...
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Popular passages
Page 526 - Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door: — Darkness there and nothing more.
Page 527 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore...
Page 527 - Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore, Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never— nevermore.
Page 439 - Honor charmed the air; And all astir looked kind on her, And called her good as fair — For all God ever gave to her She kept with chary care. She kept with care her beauties rare From lovers warm and true, — For her heart was cold to all but gold, And the rich came not to woo — But honored well are charms to sell If priests the selling do.
Page 499 - ... in the streets of Boston. The sun was near setting when the march commenced. The roll of the drum, at that unquiet crisis, seemed to go through the streets, less as the martial music of the soldiers, than as a muster-call to the inhabitants themselves.
Page 443 - In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife!
Page 506 - In their bloom, And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb.
Page 526 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and. curious volume of forgotten lore — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " "Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.
Page 527 - Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Page 446 - Taught in the school of patience to endure The life of anguish and the death of fire. All their lives long, with the unleavened bread And bitter herbs of exile and its fears, The wasting famine of the heart they fed, And slaked its thirst with marah of their tears.