American Monthly Knickerbocker, Volume 9Charles Fenno Hoffman, Lewis Gaylord Clark, Timothy Flint, Kinahan Cornwallis, John Holmes Agnew 1837 - Periodicals |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 100
Page 18
... scene . As flow the lava's burning waves , As bursts the earthquake - shock , So come the passions o'er their slaves , E'en like their own siroc - Blasting each flower its breath goes o'er , Breathing destruction to the core ! England ...
... scene . As flow the lava's burning waves , As bursts the earthquake - shock , So come the passions o'er their slaves , E'en like their own siroc - Blasting each flower its breath goes o'er , Breathing destruction to the core ! England ...
Page 42
... scene by the light of a full moon , which suddenly burst forth , and streamed in long columns of radiance over the rolling waves . The sable vessel was now plainly visible , and it was discovered that she had run up under the faint ...
... scene by the light of a full moon , which suddenly burst forth , and streamed in long columns of radiance over the rolling waves . The sable vessel was now plainly visible , and it was discovered that she had run up under the faint ...
Page 44
... scene of this tragedy and comedy ; for imme- diately afterward , they formed themselves again in order , raised their barrows , and took up their march for the vessel . Harley thought it would perhaps be advisable to retreat from his ...
... scene of this tragedy and comedy ; for imme- diately afterward , they formed themselves again in order , raised their barrows , and took up their march for the vessel . Harley thought it would perhaps be advisable to retreat from his ...
Page 47
... scene- the banquet , or the bowers Where mirth and revelry usurp the hours - Where , like a spell , Beauty is sovereign- where man owns its powers , And woman's tread is o'er a path of flowers . Yet seem ye not as those Within whose ...
... scene- the banquet , or the bowers Where mirth and revelry usurp the hours - Where , like a spell , Beauty is sovereign- where man owns its powers , And woman's tread is o'er a path of flowers . Yet seem ye not as those Within whose ...
Page 63
... scene . The cataract utters its horrid whereabout on every breeze . You listen to its murmurs , until the heart is intoxi- cated with their sublimity , and the eye most with emotion . Now they sound like the crackling flames , spreading ...
... scene . The cataract utters its horrid whereabout on every breeze . You listen to its murmurs , until the heart is intoxi- cated with their sublimity , and the eye most with emotion . Now they sound like the crackling flames , spreading ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
admiration American Angelique appear arms beautiful bosom Brigham called captain character Christian Cicero comets dance dark dear death deep delight earth England excitement father favor fear feel Friar Lawrence FRIEDRICH THIERSCH genius gentleman give grace Greek Grogram hand happy hath head heard heart heaven Heidegger honor hope John Liston knout labor lady language light literary living look Medbourne mind Mohegan moral mother Naples Narragansets nature never New-York night noble o'er once passed phrenology Plato pleasure poet poetry poor present Probus racter reader replied rich Sachem SAMUEL COLMAN scene seemed smile soon soul spirit sweet taste tears thee thing thou thought tion trees truth turned TWICE-TOLD TALES Uncas voice volume waters woman words wrecker writer young youth
Popular passages
Page 105 - I appeal to any white man to say if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat; if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed as they passed, and said, Logan is the friend of white men.
Page 553 - To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Page 567 - CALL it not vain :— they do not err, Who say, that when the Poet dies, Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies : Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, For the departed Bard make moan ; That mountains weep in crystal rill ; That flowers in tears of balm distil ; Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, And oaks, in deeper groan, reply ; And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges round his grave.
Page 472 - MY days among the Dead are past ; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old: My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day.
Page 606 - Then the lords of the Philistines brought up to her seven green withs which had not been dried, and she bound him with them. Now there were men lying in wait, abiding with her in the chamber. And she said unto him, The Philistines be upon thee, Samson.
Page 132 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Page 472 - My hopes are with the Dead ; anon My place with them will be, And I with them shall travel on Through all Futurity ; Yet leaving here a name, I trust, That will not perish in the dust.
Page 204 - MY life is like the summer rose That opens to the morning sky, But, ere the shades of evening close, Is scattered on the ground — to die! Yet on the rose's humble bed The sweetest dews of night are shed, As if she wept the waste to see, — But none shall weep a tear for me! My life is like the autumn leaf That trembles in the moon's pale ray; Its hold is frail, — its date is brief...
Page 110 - CARE-CHARMER Sleep, son of the sable night, Brother to death, in silent darkness born, Relieve my languish, and restore the light ; With dark forgetting of my care return. And let the day be time enough to mourn The shipwreck of my ill-adventured youth : Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn, Without the torment of the night's untruth. Cease, dreams, the images of...
Page 423 - Who next ? Oh, my little friend, you are let loose from school, and come hither to scrub your blooming face, and drown the memory of certain taps of the ferule, and other schoolboy troubles, in a draught from the Town Pump.