Little Classics, Volume 14 |
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Page 9
And she turned , - her bosom shaken with a sudden storm of sighs , – All the spirit
deeply dawning in the dark of hazel eyes , — . Saying , “ I have hid my feelings ,
fearing they should do me wrong ” ; Saying , “ Dost thou love me , cousin ?
And she turned , - her bosom shaken with a sudden storm of sighs , – All the spirit
deeply dawning in the dark of hazel eyes , — . Saying , “ I have hid my feelings ,
fearing they should do me wrong ” ; Saying , “ Dost thou love me , cousin ?
Page 15
... And at night along the dusky highway near and nearer drawn , Sees in heaven
the light of London flaring like a dreary dawn : And his spirit leaps within him to
be gone before him then , Underneath the light he looks at , in among the throngs
...
... And at night along the dusky highway near and nearer drawn , Sees in heaven
the light of London flaring like a dreary dawn : And his spirit leaps within him to
be gone before him then , Underneath the light he looks at , in among the throngs
...
Page 20
Mother - Age ( for mine I knew not ) , help me as when life begun : Rift the hills ,
and roll the waters , flash the lightnings , weigh the Sun , — O , I see the crescent
promise of my spirit hath not set . Ancient founts of inspiration well through all my
...
Mother - Age ( for mine I knew not ) , help me as when life begun : Rift the hills ,
and roll the waters , flash the lightnings , weigh the Sun , — O , I see the crescent
promise of my spirit hath not set . Ancient founts of inspiration well through all my
...
Page 33
I seem to feel my native air blow down from some high region there , And fan my
spirit pure : I rise above the sense of loss and pain : Faint forms that lured my
childhood ' s eyes , long lost , I seem to find again : I see the end of all : I feel
hope ...
I seem to feel my native air blow down from some high region there , And fan my
spirit pure : I rise above the sense of loss and pain : Faint forms that lured my
childhood ' s eyes , long lost , I seem to find again : I see the end of all : I feel
hope ...
Page 64
Those were thy days , blithe spirit , those When a June sunshine could fill up The
chalice of a buttercup With such Falernian juice as flows No longer , - - for the
vine is dead. BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL . BY THOMAS BUCHANAN READ .
Those were thy days , blithe spirit , those When a June sunshine could fill up The
chalice of a buttercup With such Falernian juice as flows No longer , - - for the
vine is dead. BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL . BY THOMAS BUCHANAN READ .
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Common terms and phrases
beautiful better birds blow bonnets bonnie Dundee boys brave breast breath bright bring close clouds comes crown dark dead dear death deep doth dream earth eyes face fair fall feel fire flower follow give glory golden green grow hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hill hold hope Italy keep land leaves lies light lips live look Lord mind morn nature never night o’er once pain passion past play remember rest ring rise rose round seemed shadow shore sight silent sing smile song soul sound spirit spring stand star strong sweet Take tears thee things thou thoughts tree turn voice walk wander wave wheel wild wind young youth
Popular passages
Page 15 - Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new : That which they have done but earnest of the things that they shall do...
Page 60 - Shaped by himself with newly-learned art ; A wedding or a festival, A mourning or a funeral ; And this hath now his heart, And unto this he frames his song : Then will he fit his tongue To dialogues of business, love, or strife ; But it will not be long Ere this be thrown aside, And with new joy and pride The little actor cons another part ; Filling from time to time his
Page 122 - The hand that rounded Peter's dome, And groined the aisles of Christian Rome, Wrought in a sad sincerity ; Himself from God he could not free ; He builded better than he knew ; — The conscious stone to beauty grew.
Page 69 - Hence, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy, Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night-raven sings; There under ebon shades and low-browed rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
Page 97 - Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Page 61 - Thou little child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife ? Full soon thy soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life...
Page 224 - Great captains, with their guns and drums, Disturb our judgment for the hour, But at last silence comes; These all are gone, and, standing like a tower, Our children shall behold his fame, The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man, Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, New birth of our new soil, the first American.
Page 98 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Page 128 - Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in His hand Who saith, "A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God; see all, nor be afraid!
Page 113 - Last came, and last did go The pilot of the Galilean lake; Two massy keys he bore of metals twain (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain) ; He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake: 'How well could I have spared for thee, young swain, Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake Creep and intrude and climb into the fold!
Bibliographic information
| Title | Little Classics, Volume 14 Little Classics, Rossiter Johnson |
| Editor | Rossiter Johnson |
| Publisher | Houghton, Mifflin, 1875 |
| Original from | Harvard University |
| Digitized | 1 Aug 2007 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |