At Home and Abroad: A Sketch-book of the Life, Scenery, and Men

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G.P. Putnam, 1861 - 509 Seiten
 

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Seite 482 - Where falls not hail, or rain or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard-lawns And bowery hollows crowned with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
Seite 63 - Good friend ! for Jesus' sake forbear To dig the dust inclosed here. Blest be the man that spares these stones ; And cursed be he that moves my bones.
Seite 496 - Oh sweet it was in Aves to hear the landward breeze 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 370 - 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 356 - Mr. Irving, and had seen him not long before leaving New York. " He must be at least fifty years old," said Humboldt. "He is seventy," I answered, "but as young as ever." " Ah ! " said he, " I have lived so long that I have almost lost the consciousness of time. I belong to the age of Jefferson and Gallatin, and I heard of Washington's death while travelling in South America.
Seite 2 - Away in the northeast, glimmering through the trees, was a white object, probably the front of a distant barn ; but I shouted to the astonished servant girl, who had just discovered me from the garden below, ' I see the falls of Niagara ! ' " Bayard had read all the books in the little library of his village before he was twelve years old, and had several books of his own, bought with money which he had earned selling nuts. Books of travel and poetry were his favorites, and he felt sure he should...
Seite 444 - on the lawn, and the " liquid azure bloom of a crescent of sea" glimmered afar. I had not been two minutes in the drawing-room before Tennyson walked in. So unlike are the published portraits of him that I was almost in doubt as to his identity. The engraved head suggests a moderate stature, but he is tall and broadshouldered as a son of Anak, with hair, beard, and eyes, of southern darkness.
Seite 349 - ... 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 48 - 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 350 - ... interview. Three days afterwards I received through the city post a reply in his own hand, stating that, although he was suffering from a cold which had followed his removal from Potsdam to the capital, he would willingly receive me, and appointed one o'clock the next day for the visit.

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