The Professor at the Breakfast-table: With the Story of Iris

Ticknor and Fields, 1864 - 410 Seiten

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"Where could I get a better illustration of what I mean than in those three little volumes which make up Wendell Holmes' immortal series, "The Autocrat," "The Poet," and "The Professor at the ... Vollständige Rezension lesen

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Seite 61 - Where the snowflakes fall thickest there's nothing can freeze ! Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake! Look close — you will see not a sign of a flake! We want some new garlands for those we have shed, And these are white roses in place of the red. We've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told, Of talking (in public) as if we were old; That boy we call "Doctor," and this we call "Judge"; It's a neat little fiction — of course it's all fudge.
Seite 60 - HAS there any old fellow got mixed with the boys ? If there has, take him out, without making a noise.
Seite 301 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Seite 62 - That boy with the grave, mathematical look Made believe he had written a wonderful book, And the Royal Society thought it was true! So they chose him right in, — a good joke it was, too ! There's a boy, we pretend, with a three-decker brain, That could harness a team with a logical chain.
Seite 338 - The sound of a kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon, but its echo lasts a deal longer. There is one disadvantage which the man of philosophical habits of mind suffers, as compared with the man of action. While he is taking an enlarged and rational view of the matter before him, he lets his chance slip through his fingers. Iris woke up, of her own accord, before I had made up my mind what I was going to do about it. When I remember how charmingly she looked, I don't blame myself at all for being...
Seite 202 - Responsive to his call, — with quivering peals, And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud Redoubled and redoubled...
Seite 263 - 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!
Seite 62 - You hear that boy laughing? You think he's all fun; But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done; The children laugh loud as they troop to his call, And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all!
Seite 221 - Yet think not unto them was lent All light for all the coming days, And Heaven's eternal wisdom spent In making straight the ancient ways: " The living fountain overflows For every flock, for every lamb, Nor heeds, though angry creeds oppose With Luther's dike or Calvin's dam.
Seite 62 - Yes, we're boys, — always playing with tongue or with pen, — And I sometimes have asked, — Shall we ever be men ? Shall we always be youthful, and laughing, and gay, Till the last dear companion drops smiling away ? Then here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray ! The stars of its winter, the dews of its May ! And when we have done with our life-lasting toys. Dear Father, take care of Thy children, THE BOYS ! I860.— Xines.

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