The Biglow Papers, Band 1

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John Camden Hotten, 1861 - 200 Seiten

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Seite 59 - We were gittin' on nicely up here to our village, With good old idees o' wut's right an' wut aint, We kind o' thought Christ went agin war an' pillage, An' thet eppyletts worn't the best mark of a saint; But John P. Robinson he Sez this kind o
Seite 33 - re agoin' to git your right, Nor by lookin' down on black folks Coz you 're put upon by wite ; Slavery aint o' nary color, Taint the hide thet makes it wus, All it keers fer in a feller 'S jest to make him fill its pus. Want to tackle me in, du ye? I expect...
Seite 96 - 11 keep the people in blindness, — • Thet we the Mexicuns can thrash Right inter brotherly kindness, Thet bombshells, grape, an' powder 'n' ball Air good-will's strongest magnets, Thet peace, to make it stick at all, Must be druv in with bagnets. In short, I firmly du believe In Humbug generally, Fer it 'aa thing thet I perceive To hev a solid vally ; This heth my faithful shepherd ben, In pasturs sweet heth led me, An' this '11 keep the people green To feed ez they hev fed me.
Seite 36 - In the days o' seventy-six. Clang the bells in every steeple, Call all true men to disown The tradoocers of our people, The enslavers o' their own ; Let our dear old Bay State proudly Put the trumpet to her mouth, Let her ring this messidge loudly In the ears of all the South : — " I '11 return ye good fer evil Much ez we frail mortils can, But I wun't go help the Devil Makin' man the cus o' man ; Call me coward, call me traiter, Jest ez suits your mean idees, — Here I stand a tyrant-hater, An
Seite 93 - sa kind o' thing Thet don't agree with niggers. I du believe the people want A tax on teas an' coffees, Thet nothin' aint extravygunt, — Purvidin' I 'm in office ; Fer I hev loved my country sence My eye-teeth filled their sockets, An' Uncle Sam I reverence, Partic'larly his pockets.
Seite 67 - I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and seeks her adversary, but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland is to be run for not without dust and heat.
Seite 59 - s ben true to one party — an' thet is himself. So John P. Robinson he Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. Gineral C. he goes in fer the war ; He don't vally principle more 'n an old cud ; Wut did God make us raytional creeturs fer, But glory an' gunpowder, plunder an
Seite 27 - Ez fer war, I call it murder, — There you hev it plain an' flat; I don't want to go no furder Than my Testyment fer that; God hez sed so plump an' fairly, It's ez long ez it is broad, An' you've gut to git up airly Ef you want to take in God.
Seite 60 - Sez they're nothin' on airth but jest fee, faw, fum: An thet all this big talk of our destinies Is half on it ign'ance, an' t'other half rum; But John P. Robinson he Sez it aint no sech thing; an' of course, so must we. Parson Wilbur sez he never heerd in his life Thet th' Apostles rigged out in their swaller-tail coats, An' marched round in front of a drum an...

Autoren-Profil (1861)

James Russell Lowell (February 22, 1819 - August 12, 1891) was an American Romantic poet, critic, editor, and diplomat. He is associated with the Fireside Poets, a group of New England writers. But Lowell's real strengths as a writer are better found in his prose essays than in his verse. A man great in literary learning (he was professor of belles-lettres at Harvard College for many years), wise and passionate in his commitments, he was a great upholder of tradition and value. His essays on the great writers of England and Europe still endure, distinguished not only by their astute insights into the literary classics of Western culture, but also by their spectacular style and stunning wit. Lowell graduated from Harvard College in 1838 and went on to earn a law degree from Harvard Law School. He published his first collection of poetry in 1841. Nor was Lowell merely a dweller in an ivory tower. In his youth, he worked passionately for the cause of abolition, risking his literary reputation for a principle that he saw as absolute. In his middle years, he was founding editor of the Atlantic Monthly and guided it during its early years toward its enormous success. In his final years, this great example of American character and style represented the United States first as minister to Spain (1877--80), and afterwards to Great Britain (1880--85). Lowell was married twice: First to the poet Mary White Lowell, who died of tuberculosis, and second to Frances Dunlap. He died on August 12, 1891, at his home, Elmwood. He was buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery.

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