The Atlantic Monthly, Količina 20

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Atlantic Monthly Company, 1867
 

Mnenja - Napišite recenzijo

Na običajnih mestih nismo našli nobenih recenzij.

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Priljubljeni odlomki

Stran 184 - Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me. If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.
Stran 579 - I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on the recovery of my freedom, and, perhaps, the establishment of my fame.
Stran 370 - Sadly, but not with upbraiding, The generous deed was done, In the storm of the years that are fading, No braver battle was won . Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Under the blossoms, the Blue, Under the garlands, the Gray.
Stran 369 - BY the flow of the inland river, Whence the fleets of iron have fled, Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver, Asleep are the ranks of the dead ; — Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day ; — Under the one, the Blue ; Under the other, the Gray.
Stran 48 - While fancy, like the finger of a clock, Runs the great circuit, and is still at home.
Stran 278 - Westward the course of empire takes its way, The four first acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day : Time's noblest offspring is the last.
Stran 579 - It was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page, in a summer-house in my garden. After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent.
Stran 179 - Shakespeare's poems the creative power and the intellectual energy wrestle as in a war embrace. Each in its excess of strength seems to threaten the extinction of the other. At length in the drama they were reconciled, and fought each with its shield before the breast of the other.
Stran 180 - Helicanus, strike me, honour'd sir ; Give me a gash, put me to present pain ; Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me, O'erbear the shores of my mortality, And drown me with their sweetness.
Stran 377 - In an age of fops and toys, Wanting wisdom, void of right, *° Who shall nerve heroic boys To hazard all in Freedom's fight, — Break sharply off their jolly games, Forsake their comrades gay And quit proud homes and youthful dames For famine, toil and fray?

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