The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth LongfellowGeorge Routledge, 1867 - 452 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 27
... laughing , - And dashed his beard with wine ; " I had rather live in Lapland , Than that Swabian land of thine ! " The goodliest land on all this earth , It is the Saxon land ! There have I as many maidens As fingers on this hand ...
... laughing , - And dashed his beard with wine ; " I had rather live in Lapland , Than that Swabian land of thine ! " The goodliest land on all this earth , It is the Saxon land ! There have I as many maidens As fingers on this hand ...
الصفحة 47
... laughing air , Baptiste stands sighing , with silent tongue ? And yet the bride is fair and young ! Is it Saint Joseph would say to us all , That love o'er - hasty precedeth a fall ? O , no ! for a maiden frail , I trow , Never bore so ...
... laughing air , Baptiste stands sighing , with silent tongue ? And yet the bride is fair and young ! Is it Saint Joseph would say to us all , That love o'er - hasty precedeth a fall ? O , no ! for a maiden frail , I trow , Never bore so ...
الصفحة 63
... laughed , And as the wind - gusts waft The sea - foam brightly , So the loud laugh of scorn , Out of those lips unshorn , From the deep drinking - horn Blew the foam lightly . " She was a Prince's child , I but a Viking wild , And ...
... laughed , And as the wind - gusts waft The sea - foam brightly , So the loud laugh of scorn , Out of those lips unshorn , From the deep drinking - horn Blew the foam lightly . " She was a Prince's child , I but a Viking wild , And ...
الصفحة 64
... laughed he . Colder and louder blew the wind , A gale from the North - east ; The snow fell hissing in the brine , And the billows frothed like yeast . * In Scandinavia this is the customary salu- tation when drinking a health . I have ...
... laughed he . Colder and louder blew the wind , A gale from the North - east ; The snow fell hissing in the brine , And the billows frothed like yeast . * In Scandinavia this is the customary salu- tation when drinking a health . I have ...
الصفحة 121
... laughed , and said they were nuns going into the chapel , Oft on sledges in winter , as swift as the swoop of the eagle , Down the hill - side bounding , they glided away o'er the meadow . R Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous ...
... laughed , and said they were nuns going into the chapel , Oft on sledges in winter , as swift as the swoop of the eagle , Down the hill - side bounding , they glided away o'er the meadow . R Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Acadian Angel answered arrows beautiful behold beneath birds breath bright Chibiabos Chispa clouds cried Dacotahs dance dark dead death dream earth Edenhall Elsie eyes face father fear Filled flowers forest Friar Gipsy Gitche Gumee gleam golden grave guests hand hast hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha Hoheneck holy Iagoo John Alden Kenabeek King Kwasind land Lara Laughing Water light listen look loud Lucifer maiden meadow Miles Standish Minnehaha Mondamin moon morning Mudjekeewis night o'er old Nokomis Osseo pass Pau-Puk-Keewis Plymouth Pray prayer Prec Prince Henry river rose round rushing sail Sandalphon sang shadows shining silent singing sleep song Song of Hiawatha sorrow soul sound spake stand Standish stars stood strong sunshine sweet Tharaw thee thou art thought unto Ursula Vict village voice wampum waves Wenonah whispered wigwam wild wind wonder words youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 4 - Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us, Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
الصفحة 338 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, rejoicing, -sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
الصفحة 338 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
الصفحة 162 - In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part ; For the Gods see everywhere. Let us do our work as well, Both the unseen and the seen ; Make the house, where Gods may dwell, Beautiful, entire, and clean.
الصفحة 365 - LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventyfive ; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year. He said to his friend, "If the British march By land or sea from the town to-night, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light, — One, if by land, and two, if by sea ; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village...
الصفحة 409 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair. A whisper, and then a silence : Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting and planning together...
الصفحة 4 - Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child. "They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.
الصفحة 110 - THE day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, 'That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. Come, read to me some poem, Some...
الصفحة 342 - This was the peasant's last Good-night, A voice replied, far up the height, Excelsior ! At break of day, as heavenward The pious monks of Saint Bernard Uttered the oft-repeated prayer, A voice cried through the startled air Excelsior ! A traveller, by the faithful hound, Half-buried in the snow was found, Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device Excelsior ! There in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay, And from the sky, serene and far, A voice...
الصفحة 157 - Tis of the wave and not the rock; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore. Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee.