The Prose Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Outre Mer and DriftwoodHoughton, Mifflin, 1886 |
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Adenès Alban Lake Alhama amid ancient Angantyr Anglo-Saxon arms Balder ballads beautiful beneath Beowulf Bernardo del Carpio blue bosom breath canto century Charlemagne church crowd dark dead death delight earth Eusebio father feel Friar Gui Frithiof Frithiof's Saga golden grave green hand heart heaven Helge hill holy horse Ingeborg journey King Ring land language light living Longfellow look Martin Franc merry midnight mind monk Moorish morning mountains night North North American Review Outre-Mer palace passed peasant Père La Chaise Périgueux poems poetic poetry poets postilion priest romance Rome round Saint says scene seemed shadow silent silver sing sits sleep solemn song soul sound Spain Spanish spirit stands star stood story street sword tell thee thou hast thought tion traveller trees Trouvères Twelve Peers Twice-Told Tales Valdepeñas village Virgin voice walls wind window
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 369 - A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping In sight, then lost amidst the forestry Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy; A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown On a fool's head - and there is London Town!
Seite 174 - Neath cloistered boughs, each floral bell that swingeth And tolls its perfume on the passing air, Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth A call to prayer. Not to the domes where crumbling arch and column Attest the feebleness of mortal hand, But to that fane, most catholic and solemn, Which God hath planned ; To that cathedral, boundless as our wonder, Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply ; Its choir the winds and waves, its organ thunder, Its dome the sky.
Seite 219 - He quits his mule, and mounts his horse, And through the street directs his course ; Through the street of Zacatin To the Alhambra spurring in. Woe is me, Alhama...
Seite 426 - My panting side was charged when I withdrew To seek a tranquil death in distant shades.^ There was I found by one who had himself Been hurt by the archers.
Seite 388 - So thou shalt in mould Dwell full cold, Dimly and dark. Doorless is that house, And dark it is within ; There thou art fast detained And Death hath the key. Loathsome is that earth-house, And grim within to dwell. There thou shalt dwell, And worms shall divide thee.
Seite 70 - There is no antidote against the opium of time, which temporally considereth all things : our fathers find their graves in our short memories, and sadly tell us how we may be buried in our survivors.
Seite 172 - No life, my honest scholar, no life so happy and so pleasant as the life of a well-governed angler; for when the lawyer is swallowed up with business, and the statesman is preventing or contriving plots, then we sit on cowslip banks, hear the birds sing, and possess ourselves in as much quietness as these silent silver streams, which we now see glide so quietly by us.
Seite 273 - Ye ! who have traced the Pilgrim to the scene Which is his last, if in your memories dwell A thought which once was his, if on ye swell A single recollection, not in vain He wore his sandal-shoon and scallop-shell; Farewell ! with him alone may rest the pain, If such there were — with you, the moral of his strain.
Seite 195 - Thy blest approach, and oh, to Heaven how lost, If my ingratitude's unkindly frost Has chilled the bleeding wounds upon thy feet. How oft my guardian angel gently cried, " Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see How he persists to knock and wait for thee ! " And, oh ! how often to that voice of sorrow, " To-morrow we will open," I replied, And when the morrow came, I answered still, "To-morrow.
Seite 174 - Your voiceless lips, O flowers, are living preachers, Each cup a pulpit, every leaf a book, Supplying to my fancy numerous teachers From loneliest nook. Floral apostles, that, in dewy splendor, " Weep without woe, and blush without a crime," O, may I deeply learn, and ne'er surrender, Your lore sublime.