 Parian wreaths; A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn; Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall, Maugre the farmer's sighs; and, at the gate, A tapering turret overtops the work. And when his hours are numbered, and the world Is all his own, retiring,...  Transactions - Pągina 138per Literary and Historical Society of Quebec - 1875Visualització completa - Sobre aquest llibre
 | Ralph Waldo Emerson - 1808 - 168 pągines
...the world Is all his own, retiring, as he were not, Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art 25 To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone, Built...wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow. HYMN: SUNG AT THE COMPLETION OF THE CONCORD MONUMENT, APRIL 19, 1836. BY the rude bridge that arched... | |
 | Margaret Fuller, Ralph Waldo Emerson, George Ripley - 1841 - 564 pągines
...stake, or tree, or door. Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he For number or proportion. Mockingly On coop...wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow. * It would have been a convenience to the readers, if it had been stated in the preface, that the version... | |
 | Charles Fenno Hoffman, Lewis Gaylord Clark, Timothy Flint, Kinahan Cornwallis, John Holmes Agnew - 1841 - 564 pągines
...retiring, ae he were not, Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art To mimic in slow structure*, stone by stone, Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work. The frolic architecture of the snow.' There are more of the ( Orphic Sayings.1 We infer that the editor finds it difficult to shake this... | |
 | Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1842 - 638 pągines
...number'd, and the world Is all his own, retiring, as he were not. Leaves, when the sun appears, astonish'd Art To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone, Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work. The frolic arehitecture of the snow. 238 SUMNER LINCOLN FAIRFIELD. [Bom, 1MB.1 THE author of "The Last Night of... | |
 | Lydia Maria Child - 1843 - 334 pągines
...finest style imaginable ; throwing diamonds and ermine mantles around him with princely prodigality. " And when his hours are numbered, and the world Is...structures, stone by stone, Built in an age, the mad wind's night work, The frolic architecture of the snow." I had wealth of fairy splendour on my windows this... | |
 | Lydia Maria Child - 1845 - 310 pągines
...finest style imaginable; throwing diamonds and ermine mantles around him, with princely prodigality. ' And when his hours are numbered, and the world Is...structures, stone by stone. Built in an age. the mad wind's night work ; The frolic architecture of the snow.' I had wealth of fairy splendour on my windows this... | |
 | Lydia Maria Child - 1846 - 290 pągines
...princely prodigality. ' And when his hours are numbered, and the world Is all his own, retiring, as ho were not, Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished...structures, stone by stone. Built in an age. the mad wind's night work ; The frolic architecture of the snow.' I had wealth of fairy splendour on my windows this... | |
 | Ralph Waldo Emerson - 1847 - 264 pągines
...stake, or tree, or door. Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he For number or proportion. Mockingly, On coop...wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow. WOODNOTES. I. 1. FOR this present, hard Is the fortune of the bard, Born out of time ; All his accomplishment,... | |
 | Ralph Waldo Emerson - 1847 - 244 pągines
...kennel he hangs Parian wreaths; D A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn ; Fills up the fanner's lane from wall to wall, Maugre the farmer's sighs,...wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow. WOOD NOTES. L FOB this present, hard Is the fortune of the bard Born out of time; All his accomplishment... | |
 | 1848 - 594 pągines
...stake, or tree, or door. Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he For number or proportion. Mockingly On coop...wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow.'—Emerson, p. 49. To conclude this list of examples, which we leave most imperfect, in the fear... | |
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