The Professor at the Breakfast-table: With the Story of IrisTicknor and Fields, 1860 - 410 psl. |
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The Professor at the Breakfast-table– With the Story of Iris Oliver Wendell Holmes Visos knygos peržiūra - 1860 |
The Professor at the Breakfast-table– With the Story of Iris Oliver Wendell Holmes Visos knygos peržiūra - 1860 |
The Professor at the Breakfast-table– With the Story of Iris Oliver Wendell Holmes Visos knygos peržiūra - 1860 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
beauty believe Benjamin Franklin boarders boarding-house bombazine Boston brain breath Broad Church chamber cheeks child Church Copp's Hill creature daugh depolarized divine divinity-student door doubt dying eyes face fancy feel fellah flowers folks genius girl's give hand head hear heard heart hold human Iris keep kind Koh-i-noor landlady larvæ laugh light lips Little Boston Little Gentleman live look man's mean mind morning mother Muggletonian Nature neighbor never perhaps person Phrenology Poor Relation pretty Professor Pseudo-sciences remember Robert Calef round Saint Polycarp seems seen side sitting smile sometimes soul speak story strange sweet talk tell things thought tion told truth turned voice woman women words young fellow John young girl young lady young man John young Marylander youth
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227 psl. - I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech ; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach.
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334 psl. - Chartier has lasted four hundred years, and put it into the head of many an ill-favored poet, whether Victoria, or Eugenie, would do as much by him, if she happened to pass him when he was asleep. And have we ever forgotten that the fresh cheek of the young John Milton tingled under the lips of some high-born Italian beauty, who, I believe, did not think to leave her card by the side of the slumbering youth, but has bequeathed the memory of her pretty deed to all coming time ? The sound of a kiss...
261 psl. - So deeply had she drunken in That look, those shrunken serpent eyes, That all her features were resigned To this sole image in her mind: And passively did imitate That look of dull and treacherous hate!
398 psl. - Sun of our life, thy quickening ray Sheds on our path the glow of day ; Star of our hope, thy softened light Cheers the long watches of the night.
352 psl. - O Love Divine, that stooped to share Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear, On Thee we cast each earthborn care, We smile at pain while Thou art near 1 Though long the weary way we tread, And sorrow crown each lingering year, No path we shun, no darkness dread, Our hearts still whispering, Thou art near...
59 psl. - Gray temples at twenty? Yes! white if we please. Where the snowflakes fall thickest there's nothing can freeze ! Was it snowing I spoke of?
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88 psl. - We must have a weak spot or two in a character before we can love it much. People that do not laugh or cry, or take more of anything than is good for them, or use anything but dictionary words, are admirable subjects for biographies. But we don't always care most for those flat-pattern flowers that press best in the herbarium.