My Garden Acquaintance: And A Good Word for WinterJames R. Osgood, 1877 - 96 pàgines |
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
acquaintance Autumn beautiful berries better birds Bob White bobolinks Book of Job bough brown thrush catbird charm Châteaubriand cheer chimneys Cloth cold Cowper crow delightful door doubt dreams earth Edition eral erelong Euro exquisite fancy feeling fire fireside flakes frost garden give gleam Half Calf hand hear heard humor Ister Italy JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL kind landscape light look mind morning Morocco nature neighbors nest never night o'er once oölogized oriole Ovid owls pair perhaps pewee pine poet poetic Pontus Pope Prelude pretty rain rattle relish robin Roman nose round scarce season seemed seen Shakespeare silence sing singing-birds slender snow snow-storm song spring storm summer syringa thermometer thing Thomson thou thrush tial tree verse visits walk watch weather White wind window wing Witchcraft Word for Winter Wordsworth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 67 - Shortening his journey between morn and noon, And hurrying him, impatient of his stay, Down to the rosy west ; but kindly still Compensating...
Pàgina 93 - And art thou nothing ? Such thou art, as when The woodman winding westward up the glen At wintry dawn, where o'er the sheep-track's maze The viewless snow-mist weaves a glistening haze, Sees full before him, gliding without tread, An image * with a glory round its head ; The enamoured rustic worships its fair hues, Nor knows he makes the shadow he pursues ! THE SUICIDE'S ARGUMENT.
Pàgina 67 - And hurrying* him, impatient of his stay, Down to the rosy west ; but kindly still Compensating his loss with added hours Of social converse and instructive ease, And gathering, at short notice, in one group The family dispersed, and fixing thought, Not less dispersed by daylight and its cares. I crown thee king of intimate delights, Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturbed Retirement, and the hours Of long, uninterrupted evening know.
Pàgina 82 - Which wave and glitter in the distant sun. When, if a sudden gust of wind arise, The brittle forest into atoms flies; The crackling wood beneath the tempest bends, And in a spangled shower the prospect ends...
Pàgina 66 - Than those of age, thy forehead wrapt in clouds, A leafless branch thy sceptre, and thy throne A sliding car, indebted to no wheels, But urged by storms along its slippery way, I love thee all unlovely as thou seem'st, And dreaded as thou art...
Pàgina 5 - ONE of the most delightful books in my father's library was White's "Natural History of Selborne." For me it has rather gained in charm with years. I used to read it without knowing the secret of the pleasure I found in it, but as I grow older I begin to detect some of the simple expedients of this natural magic. Open the book where you will, it takes you out of doors. In our broiling July weather one can walk out with this genially garrulous Fellow of Oriel and find refreshment instead of fatigue....
Pàgina 25 - Silently they flew back and forth, each giving a vengeful dab at the .nest in passing. They did not fall-to and deliberately destroy it, for they might have been caught at their mischief. As it was, whenever the yellow-birds came back, their enemies were hidden in their own sight-proof bush. Several times their unconscious victims repaired damages, but at length, after counsel taken together, they gave it up. Perhaps, like other unlettered folk, they came to the conclusion that the Devil was in it,...
Pàgina 61 - Now, all amid the rigours of the year, In the wild depth of Winter, while without The ceaseless winds blow ice, be my retreat, Between the groaning forest and the shore Beat by the boundless multitude of waves, A rural, shelter'd, solitary scene; Where ruddy fire and beaming tapers join, To cheer the gloom. There studious let me sit, And hold high converse with the mighty dead...
Pàgina 59 - The frost-king ties my fumbling feet, Sings in my ears, my hands are stones, Curdles the blood to the marble bones, Tugs at the heart-strings, numbs the sense, And hems in life with narrowing fence.