Flower-de-luceTicknor and Fields, 1867 - 72 Seiten |
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Seite 21
... strange : Their voices I could hear , And yet the words they uttered seemed to change Their meaning to my ear . For the one face I looked for was not there , The one low voice was mute ; Only an unseen presence filled the air , And ...
... strange : Their voices I could hear , And yet the words they uttered seemed to change Their meaning to my ear . For the one face I looked for was not there , The one low voice was mute ; Only an unseen presence filled the air , And ...
Seite 33
... ; Still clutching his treasure he had died ; And as he lay there , he appeared A statue of gold with a silver beard , His arms outstretched as if crucified . " This is the story , strange and true , That 3 Kambalu . 333.
... ; Still clutching his treasure he had died ; And as he lay there , he appeared A statue of gold with a silver beard , His arms outstretched as if crucified . " This is the story , strange and true , That 3 Kambalu . 333.
Seite 34
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. This is the story , strange and true , That the great captain Alau Told to his brother the Tartar Khan , When he rode that day into Kambalu By the road that leadeth to Ispahan . THE WIND OVER THE CHIMNEY . EE , ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. This is the story , strange and true , That the great captain Alau Told to his brother the Tartar Khan , When he rode that day into Kambalu By the road that leadeth to Ispahan . THE WIND OVER THE CHIMNEY . EE , ...
Seite 56
... , Kneeling in prayer , and not ashamed to pray , The tumult of the time disconsolate To inarticulate murmurs dies away , While the eternal ages watch and wait . II . OW strange the sculptures that adorn these How 56 Divina Commedia .
... , Kneeling in prayer , and not ashamed to pray , The tumult of the time disconsolate To inarticulate murmurs dies away , While the eternal ages watch and wait . II . OW strange the sculptures that adorn these How 56 Divina Commedia .
Seite 57
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. II . OW strange the sculptures that adorn these How towers ! This crowd of statues , in whose folded sleeves Birds build their nests ; while canopied with leaves Parvis and portal bloom like trellised bowers ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. II . OW strange the sculptures that adorn these How towers ! This crowd of statues , in whose folded sleeves Birds build their nests ; while canopied with leaves Parvis and portal bloom like trellised bowers ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
A. V. S. ANTHONY Agassiz Artist Baldacca's belfries Bells of Lynn blaze BLIC bloom blown Bons amis breath captain Alau chez Agassiz city of Kambalu constellations cross darkness sinking dead despair disconsolate DIVINA dream dust Engraver exultant feet flower FLOWER-DE-LUCE FORD gate GIOTTO'S TOWER Gleams gold golden good-will good-will to men gray old hear heard heart HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW J'ai jewels Kalif Khan leadeth to Ispahan LENOX AND TILDEN lifted lily lonely manse meadow midnight minster mist murmur Naught avails night-wind NOËL O'er Ouvrez pain PALINGENESIS passed peace on earth Père pines PUBLIC LIBRARY ASTOR reverence road that leadeth roar rode roses sand setting sun shining song Of peace sound splendor sweet swords thee thine Thou art thought TILDEN FOUNDATIONS To-morrow tongue of flame town unseen vision voice Watch weird woman wilder wind woman of Endor words Ye cry aloud YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 61 - I lift mine eyes, and all the windows blaze With forms of Saints and holy men who died, Here martyred and hereafter glorified...
Seite 57 - How strange the sculptures that adorn these towers! This crowd of statues, in whose folded sleeves Birds build their nests; while canopied with leaves Parvis and portal bloom like trellised bowers, And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers!
Seite 55 - OFT have I seen at some cathedral door A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat, Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er ; Far off the noises of the world retreat ; The loud vociferations of the street Become an undistinguishable roar. So, as I enter here from day to day, And leave my burden at this minster gate, Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray, The tumult of the time disconsolate To inarticulate murmurs...
Seite 64 - ... liberty ! O bringer of the light, whose splendor shines Above the darkness of the Apennines, Forerunner of the day that is to be ! The voices of the city and the sea, The voices of the mountains and the pines, Repeat thy song, till the familiar lines Are footpaths for the thought of Italy ! Thy...
Seite 47 - And I saw in a vision how far and fleet ,' That fatal bullet went speeding forth, Till it reached a town in the distant North, Till it reached a house in a sunny street, Till it reached a heart that ceased to beat Without a murmur, without a cry ; And a bell was tolled, in that far-off town, For one who had passed from cross to crown, And the neighbours wondered that she should die.
Seite 26 - Of peace on earth, good-will to men ! And in despair I bowed my head ; " There is no peace on earth," I said ; " For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good -will to men...
Seite 58 - And the vast minster seems a cross of flowers! But fiends and dragons on the gargoyled eaves Watch the dead Christ between the living thieves, And, underneath, the traitor Judas lowers! Ah! from what agonies of heart and brain...
Seite 22 - Their meaning to my ear. For the one face I looked for was not there, The one low voice was mute; Only an unseen presence filled the air, And baffled my pursuit. zo Now I look back, and meadow, manse, and stream Dimly my thought defines; I only see — a dream within a dream — The hill-top hearsed with pines.
Seite 59 - I enter, and I see thee in the gloom Of the long aisles, O poet saturnine ! And strive to make my steps keep pace with thine. The air is rilled with some unknown perfume; The congregation of the dead make room For thee to pass; the votive tapers shine; Like rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves of pine The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb. From the confessionals...
Seite 20 - HOW beautiful it was, that one bright day In the long week of rain ! Though all its splendor could not chase away The omnipresent pain. The lovely town was white with apple-blooms, And the great elms o'erhead Dark shadows wove on their aerial looms Shot through with golden thread.