Modern American and British PoetryLouis Untermeyer Harcourt, Brace, 1928 - 496 էջ |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 33–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 48
... rest , I leave the casual reader , as well as the student , to discover the vision and healthy differences in this , one of the great poetic periods in native literature . WALT WHITMAN Walt Whitman was born May 31 , 1819 48 PREFACE.
... rest , I leave the casual reader , as well as the student , to discover the vision and healthy differences in this , one of the great poetic periods in native literature . WALT WHITMAN Walt Whitman was born May 31 , 1819 48 PREFACE.
Էջ 56
... rest , Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car , Or watch honey - bees busy around the hive of a summer fore- noon , Or animals feeding in the fields , Or the wonderfulness of the sundown , or of stars shining so quiet and ...
... rest , Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car , Or watch honey - bees busy around the hive of a summer fore- noon , Or animals feeding in the fields , Or the wonderfulness of the sundown , or of stars shining so quiet and ...
Էջ 57
Louis Untermeyer. These with the rest , one and all , are to me miracles , The whole referring , yet each distinct and in its place . To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle , Every cubic inch of space is a miracle , Every ...
Louis Untermeyer. These with the rest , one and all , are to me miracles , The whole referring , yet each distinct and in its place . To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle , Every cubic inch of space is a miracle , Every ...
Էջ 66
... rest of his life . Harte's later period remains mysteriously shrouded . He never came back to America , not even for a visit ; he separated himself from all the most inti- mate associations of his early life . He died , suddenly , at ...
... rest of his life . Harte's later period remains mysteriously shrouded . He never came back to America , not even for a visit ; he separated himself from all the most inti- mate associations of his early life . He died , suddenly , at ...
Էջ 71
... rest : The west is banked against the west . Above yon gleaming skies of gold One lone imperial peak is seen ; While gathered at his feet in green Ten thousand foresters are told . And all so still ! so still the air That duty drops the ...
... rest : The west is banked against the west . Above yon gleaming skies of gold One lone imperial peak is seen ; While gathered at his feet in green Ten thousand foresters are told . And all so still ! so still the air That duty drops the ...
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Common terms and phrases
ain't American Amy Lowell appeared Ballads beauty beneath bird blue boomlay born Bret Harte Copyright dark dead death died dream dust earth Edwin Markham Emily Dickinson England English eyes face feet flame flower Frost golden grass Gunga Din Guy Wetmore Carryl hand hear heart heaven hills of Habersham Hovey Imagists James Whitcomb Riley Joaquin Miller John knew later laughed Léonie Adams light Lindsay literature lived look Miniver moon mountains mystic never night poet poetic poetry prose published Reprinted by permission rhyme Riley rose sail Sandburg silence silver singing smoke song soul spirit Spoon River Anthology stars steel stone sweet things thou Tommy trees Vachel Lindsay valleys of Hall verse voice volume West Whitman wild William Rose Benét William Vaughn Moody wind words writing York
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 53 - I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago, Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.
Էջ 72 - Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind the Gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghost of shores, Before him only shoreless seas. The good mate said : " Now must we pray, For lo! the very stars are gone. Brave Admiral, speak, what shall I say?
Էջ 316 - And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings.
Էջ 55 - AFOOT and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms, Strong and content I travel the open road.
Էջ 85 - Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, The emptiness of ages in his face, And on his back the burden of the world.
Էջ 300 - REQUIEM UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be ; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
Էջ 53 - Why should I wish to see God better than this day ? I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then, In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass, I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign'd by God's name.
Էջ 192 - In a Station of the Metro": The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals, on a wet, black bough.
Էջ 52 - I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is a chef-d'oeuvre for the highest, And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven, And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery, And the cow crunching with depress'd head surpasses any statue, And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.
Էջ 73 - Sail on! sail on! and on!" They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate: "This mad sea shows his teeth to-night. He curls his lip, he lies in wait, With lifted teeth, as if to bite! Brave Admiral, say but one good word: What shall we do when hope is gone?" The words leapt as a leaping sword: "Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!