American Classics for Seventh and Eighth Grade Reading: With Biographical Sketches, Portraits and Suggestions for StudyHoughton Mifflin, 1905 - 437 σελίδες |
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Αποτελέσματα 1 - 5 από τα 67.
Σελίδα 2
... silent partner in the house ; he wrote occasionally and was for a time the editor of a mag- azine , but his pleasure was chiefly in travel , good literature , and good society . It was while he was in England , in 1818 , that the house ...
... silent partner in the house ; he wrote occasionally and was for a time the editor of a mag- azine , but his pleasure was chiefly in travel , good literature , and good society . It was while he was in England , in 1818 , that the house ...
Σελίδα 15
... silent but majestic course , with the reflection of a purple cloud , or the sail of a lagging bark , here and there sleeping on its glassy bosom , and at last losing itself in the blue highlands . On the other side he looked down into a ...
... silent but majestic course , with the reflection of a purple cloud , or the sail of a lagging bark , here and there sleeping on its glassy bosom , and at last losing itself in the blue highlands . On the other side he looked down into a ...
Σελίδα 17
... silence ; for though the former marvelled greatly what could be the object of carrying a keg of liquor up this wild mountain , yet there was something strange and incomprehensible about the unknown , that inspired awe and checked ...
... silence ; for though the former marvelled greatly what could be the object of carrying a keg of liquor up this wild mountain , yet there was something strange and incomprehensible about the unknown , that inspired awe and checked ...
Σελίδα 18
... silence , and were , withal , the most melancholy party of pleasure he had ever witnessed . Nothing interrupted the stillness of the scene but the noise of the balls , which , whenever they were rolled , echoed along the mountains like ...
... silence , and were , withal , the most melancholy party of pleasure he had ever witnessed . Nothing interrupted the stillness of the scene but the noise of the balls , which , whenever they were rolled , echoed along the mountains like ...
Σελίδα 21
... silent awe , expecting every moment to hear the shrill voice of Dame Van Winkle . He found the house gone to decay the roof fallen in , the windows shattered , and the doors off the hinges . A half - starved dog that - looked like Wolf ...
... silent awe , expecting every moment to hear the shrill voice of Dame Van Winkle . He found the house gone to decay the roof fallen in , the windows shattered , and the doors off the hinges . A half - starved dog that - looked like Wolf ...
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Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις
Acadian American ANNABEL LEE Annapolis River Basil bear beauty behold bells BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH bird character church dark death deciduous door Emerson England English Ernest Evangeline eyes farmer father forest French friends Gabriel gleamed Grand-Pré hand head heard heart heaven Henry hill House of Burgesses Ichabod Ichabod Crane Indian Israfel labor land light literary literature lived looked maiden meadows morning mountain nature neighboring never Nevermore night Nova Scotia o'er passed pine Poe's poem poet poetry prairies priest published Quoth the Raven RALPH WALDO EMERSON Raven Rip Van Winkle river rose round seemed shadow shore side silence Sir Launfal Sleepy Hollow smile song sorrow soul sound speech spirit Stone Face stood story stream sweet thee thou thought tion tonian tree trout valley village Virginia voice volume Washington wind winter wonder woods words
Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα
Σελίδα 194 - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.
Σελίδα 362 - All alone, And who tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone — They are neither man nor woman — They are neither brute nor human — They are Ghouls: And their king it is who tolls; And he rolls, rolls, rolls, Rolls A paean from the bells!
Σελίδα 175 - 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.
Σελίδα 352 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore, Nameless here for evermore.
Σελίδα 159 - Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers.
Σελίδα 357 - This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...
Σελίδα 176 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there : And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep— the dead reign there alone.
Σελίδα 129 - Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play! Who hath not learned, in hours of faith, The truth to flesh and sense unknown, That Life is ever lord of Death, And Love can never lose its own!
Σελίδα 194 - NAUTILUS This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main, — The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.
Σελίδα 26 - Rip looked and beheld a precise counterpart of himself as he went up the mountain, apparently as lazy and certainly as ragged. The poor fellow was now completely confounded. He doubted his own identity, and whether he was himself or another man. In the midst of his bewilderment, the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name. "God knows," exclaimed he, at his wit's end; "I'm not myself.