The Oxford Book of American Essays

Portada
Brander Matthews
Oxford University Press, 1914 - 508 pàgines
 

Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya

No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.

Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot

Frases i termes més freqüents

Passatges populars

Pàgina 110 - art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore — Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
Pàgina 112 - Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Pàgina 110 - Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not...
Pàgina 106 - When it most closely allies itself to Beauty; the death, then, of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world...
Pàgina 141 - He touched the tender stops of various quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric lay: And now the sun had stretched out all the hills, And now was dropt into the western bay. At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue : To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.
Pàgina 6 - ... said I, you are providing pain for yourself, instead of pleasure; you give too much for your whistle.
Pàgina 4 - I then came home, 10 and went whistling all over the house, much pleased with my whistle, but disturbing all the family. My brothers, and sisters, and cousins, understanding the bargain I had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it was worth...
Pàgina 128 - I WISH to speak a word for Nature, for absolute freedom and wildness, as contrasted with a freedom and culture merely civil, — to regard man as an inhabitant, or a part and parcel of Nature, rather than a member of society.
Pàgina 34 - I know that all beneath the moon decays. And what by mortals in this world is brought, In time's great period shall return to nought. l know that all the muse's heavenly lays, With toil of sprite which are so dearly bought, As idle sounds, of few or none are sought, That there is nothing lighter than mere praise.
Pàgina 56 - Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o' the grave. — Thou art a soul in bliss ; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.

Informació bibliogràfica