At Home and Abroad: A Sketch-book of the Life, Scenery, and MenPutnam, 1860 - 500 Seiten |
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
afternoon afterwards Alps Apolda appeared arch avenue beautiful blue boat Burschenschaft called Cape Ray Cape Spear carriage castle cave character cheerful climbed cold crossed Danube dark deep Dilsberg dinner distance door entered Erfurt eyes face followed forests Friedrichswerth garden German Gloggnitz Goethe Gotha grand gray green hall hand harbor head heard hills hour island James Adger Jena Johns journey lady lake land landscape leave light limestone living looked miles misty range morning mountains Mürzzuschlag nearly never Newfoundland night once passed picturesque plain pleasant Port-aux-Basques reached Rhine river road rock roof rose Ruhla scenery shore side Smyrna stalactitic steamer stood stream streets Styx summer summit Thüringian tion took town trees Trieste valley village walked walls wind window Wolfssohn woods young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 61 - Jesus' sake, forbeare To dig the dust enclosed here: Blessed be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones.
Seite 492 - A-swing with good tobacco in a net between the trees, With a negro lass to fan you, while you listened to the roar Of the breakers on the reef outside, that never touched the shore.
Seite 346 - ... rendered necessary. Some of my works, I knew, had found their way into his hands : I was at the beginning of a journey which would probably lead me through regions which his feet had traversed and his genius illustrated, and it was not merely a natural curiosity which attracted me towards him.
Seite 46 - ... glowing West; So the heart sleeps In thy calm deeps, Serene Forgetfulness ! No sorrow in that place may be, The noise of life grows less and less : As moss far down within the sea, As, in white lily caves, a bee, As life in a hazy reverie ; So the heart's wave In thy dim cave, Hushes, Forgetfulness ! Duty and care fade far away What toil may be we cannot guess : As a ship anchored in...
Seite 146 - Not a dead leaf stirred on the boughs ; while the mighty sound — a solemn choral, sung by ten thousand voices — swept down from the hills, and rolled .away like retreating thunder over the plain. It was no longer the roar of the wind. As in the wandering prelude of an organ melody, note trod upon note with slow, majestic footsteps, until they gathered to a theme, and then came the words, simultaneously chanted by an immeasurable host : — " Vivant terrestrice /" The air was filled with the tremendous...
Seite 33 - A YOUNG AUTHOR'S LIFE IN LONDON. I REACHED London for the second time about the middle of March, 1846, after a dismal walk through Normandy, and a stormy passage across the Channel. I stood upon London Bridge, in the raw mist and the falling twilight, with a franc and a half in my pocket, and deliberated what I should do. Weak from sea-sickness, hungry, chilled, and without a single acquaintance in the great city, my situation was about as hopeless as it is possible to conceive.
Seite 353 - ... after scene, till the actors retired one by one, to return no more, but had beheld the cataract of Atures and the forests of the Cassiquiare, Chimborazo, the Amazon, and Popocatepetl, the Altaian Alps of Siberia, the Tartar steppes, and the Caspian sea. Such a splendid circle of experience well befits a life of such generous devotion to science ; I have never seen so sublime an example of old age, crowned with imperishable success, full of the ripest wisdom, cheered and sweetened by the noblest...
Seite 367 - ... falls in fine silky locks on both sides of his face. It was grateful to me to press the same palm which Keats and Shelley had so often clasped in friendly warmth, and to hear him who knew them so well speak of them as long-lost companions. He has a curious collection of locks of the hair of poets, from Milton to Browning. 'That thin tuft of brown silky fibres, could it really have been shorn from Milton's head?' I asked myself. ' Touch it,' said Leigh Hunt, ' and then you will have touched Milton's...
Seite 366 - A million emeralds break from the ruby-budded lime In the little grove where I sit — ah, wherefore cannot I be Like things of the season gay, like the bountiful season bland, When the far-off sail is blown by the breeze of a softer clime, Half-lost in the liquid azure bloom of a crescent of sea, The silent sapphire-spangled marriage ring of the land?
Seite 350 - do you not agree with me in the opinion that the finest mountains in the world are those single cones of perpetual snow rising out of the splendid vegetation of the tropics ? The Himalayas, although loftier, can scarcely make an equal impression ; they lie further to the north, without the belt of tropical growths, and their sides are dreary and sterile in comparison. You remember Orizaba," continued he ; " here is an engraving from a rough sketch of mine. I hope you will find it correct.