The Poets of Transcendentalism: An AnthologyGeorge Willis Cooke Houghton, Mifflin, 1903 - 341 psl. |
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The Poets of Transcendentalism– An Anthology (Classic Reprint) George Willis Cooke Peržiūra negalima - 2017 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
beauty Born in Boston brave breast breath calm Channing CHARLES ANDERSON DANA Concord dark DAVID ATWOOD WASSON dear deep Dial died Divinity School doth dream earth EDWARD ROWLAND SILL Emerson eternal evermore eyes faith feet flowers forever FRANCIS ELLINGWOOD ABBOT FRANKLIN BENJAMIN SANBORN George William Curtis Graduated at Harvard hand Harvard and Divinity hath hear heart heaven HELEN HUNT JACKSON holy hope hour Hymns immortal infinite James Freeman Clarke life's light live Margaret Fuller Mass mind morning mystery Nature never night o'er pain peace perfect poems selected poets praise pray prayer published rest Samuel Longfellow seek serene shadows shalt shine shore silent sing skies smile song soul spirit stars sweet thee Theodore Parker thine things Thou art thought Thy love thyself transcendentalism transcendentalist trust truth Unitarian church voice wait wander waves weary wilt wing word youth
Populiarios ištraukos
34 psl. - Fresh pearls to their enamel gave, And the bellowing of the savage sea Greeted their safe escape to me. I wiped away the weeds and foam, I fetched my sea-born treasures home; But the poor, unsightly, noisome things Had left their beauty on the shore With the sun and the sand and the wild uproar.
35 psl. - As I spoke, beneath my feet The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath, Running over the club-moss burrs; I inhaled the violet's breath; Around me stood the oaks and firs; Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground; Over me soared the eternal sky, Full of light and of deity; Again I saw, again I heard, The rolling river, the morning bird; Beauty through my senses stole; I yielded myself to the perfect whole.
37 psl. - The hand that rounded Peter's dome And groined the aisles of Christian Rome Wrought in a sad sincerity; Himself from God he could not free; He builded better than he knew; The conscious stone to beauty grew.
37 psl. - Wrought in a sad sincerity; Himself from God he could not free; He builded better than he knew; The conscious stone to beauty grew. Knowst thou what wove yon woodbird's nest Of leaves and feathers from her breast...
128 psl. - I slept, and dreamed that life was beauty; I woke, and found that life was duty. Was thy dream then a shadowy lie? Toil on, sad heart, courageously, And thou shalt find thy dream to be A noonday light and truth to thee...
52 psl. - BE NOBLE ! and the nobleness that lies In other men, sleeping, but never dead, Will rise in majesty to meet thine own : Then wilt thou see it gleam in many eyes, Then will pure light around thy path be shed, And thou wilt never more be sad and lone.
251 psl. - I fold my hands and wait, Nor care for wind, or tide, or sea ; I rave no more 'gainst Time or Fate, For lo ! my own shall come to me.
295 psl. - It singeth low in every heart, We hear it each and all — A song of those who answer not, However we may call ; They throng the silence of the breast, We see them as of yore — The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet Who walk with us no more.
35 psl. - In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods, Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, To please the desert and the sluggish brook. The purple petals, fallen in the pool, Made the black water with their beauty gay; Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool, And court the flower that cheapens his array. Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, Then Beauty is its...
8 psl. - We are spirits clad in veils; Man by man was never seen; All our deep communing' fails To remove the shadowy screen.