The Sketch BookMacmillan, 1900 - 371 strani |
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abbey ancient antiquity appearance Baltus Van Tassel baron beautiful bosom Bracebridge Canonchet castle character charm Christmas church companion cottage countenance custom Dame dark delight distant door earth Eastcheap Edited Edward the Confessor England English Falstaff fancy feelings flowers friends gathered goblin grave green hall hand head heard heart humor hung Ichabod Ichabod Crane Indian John Bull kind lady literary literature Little Britain living looked mansion Master Simon melancholy merry mind mingled monuments mountain nature neighborhood neighboring never night noble old English old gentleman once passed Philip Poems poet poor pride quiet rich Rip Van Winkle round rural scene seated seemed seen Shakespeare side Sleepy Hollow song sorrow soul sound spectre spirit squire story tender thought tion tomb tower trees turn village wandering Westminster Abbey whole wild window worthy writers Wurtzburg young
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 169 - There is no antidote against the opium of time, which temporally considereth all things : our fathers find their graves in our short memories, and sadly tell us how we may be buried in our survivors.
Stran 179 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long : And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
Stran 40 - There was a silence for a little while, when an old man replied in a thin piping voice, 'Nicholas Vedder! why, he is dead and gone these eighteen years! There was a wooden tombstone in the churchyard that used to tell all about him, but that's rotten and gone too.
Stran 41 - That's Rip Van Winkle yonder, leaning against the tree." Rip looked, and beheld a precise counterpart of himself as he went up the mountain ; apparently as lazy, and certainly as ragged. The poor fellow was now completely confounded ; he doubted his own identity, and whether he was himself or another man. In the midst of his bewilderment, the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name. "God knows!
Stran 41 - The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all awakened a train of recollections in his mind. "What is your name, my good woman?
Stran 132 - Lay a garland on my hearse, Of the dismal yew; Maidens, willow branches bear; Say I died true: My love was false, but I was firm From my hour of birth. Upon my buried body lie Lightly, gentle earth!
Stran 34 - Passing through the ravine, they came to a hollow, like a small amphitheatre, surrounded by perpendicular precipices, over the brinks of which impending trees shot their branches, so that you only caught glimpses of the azure sky, and the bright evening cloud.
Stran 31 - How solemnly they would listen to the contents, as drawled out by Derrick Van Bummel, the schoolmaster, a dapper learned little man, who was not to be daunted by the most gigantic word in the dictionary ; and how sagely they would deliberate upon public events some months after they had taken place. The opinions of this junto were completely controlled by Nicholas Vedder, a patriarch of the village, and landlord of the inn...
Stran 33 - Rip Van Winkle Rip Van Winkle ! " He looked round, but could see nothing but a crow winging its solitary flight across the mountain. He thought his fancy must have deceived him, and turned again to descend, when he heard the same cry ring through the still evening air : " Rip Van Winkle ! Rip Van Winkle...
Stran 41 - The bystanders began now to look at each other, nod, wink significantly, and tap their fingers against their foreheads. There was a whisper, also, about securing the gun, and keeping the old fellow from doing mischief, at the very suggestion of which the self-important man in the cocked hat retired with some precipitation.