Historical View of the Languages and Literatures of the Slavic Nations: With a Sketch of Their Popular Poetry

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G.P. Putnam, 1850 - 412 Seiten
 

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Seite 416 - Homily on the Birthday of St. Gregory, and Collateral Extracts from King Alfred's Version of Bede's Ecclesiastical History and the Saxon Chronicle, with a full Rendering into English, Notes Critical and Explanatory, and an Index of Stems and Forms.
Seite 414 - THE LIBERTY OF ROME; A HISTORY. With an Historical account of the Liberty of ancient Nations. BY SAMUEL ELIOT, ESQ.
Seite 327 - Dearer is to me thy soul, O dearest, Than my brothers, all the four together. Softer is thy hand to me to rest on, Than four cushions, softest of the soft ones." * The high antiquity of Slavic popular poetry is manifest among other things, in the frequent mythological features which occur. In the ballads of the Teutonic nations, we recollect very few instances of talking animals. As to those which talk in nursery tales, we are always sure to discover in them...
Seite 32 - European Christians, the exclusive property of the priesthood. They were born in Thessalonica, in the early part of the ninth century, of a noble family; it does not appear whether of Greek or of Slavic extraction. Macedonia, of which province Thessalonica was in the times of the Romans the capital, was inhabited by many Slavi at a very early period. Constantine, who obtained by his learning and abilities the surname of the Philosopher, could have learned Slavic here, even without belonging to the...
Seite 348 - Widely o'er the field; High away the down Floated in the air. Ah! how wept and wept; Ah! how sobb'd and sobb'd The poor doveling then For her little dove. " Weep not, weep not so, Tender little bird !" Spake the light young hawk To the little dove. "O'er the sea away, O'er the far blue sea, I will drive to thee Flocks of other doves. From them choose thee then, Choose a soft and blue, With his feathered feet, Better little dove.
Seite 387 - O, ye forests, dark green forests, Miletinish forests! Why in summer and in winter, Are ye green and blooming ? O ! I would not weep and cry, Nor torment my heart. But now tell me, good folks, tell me, How should I not cry ? Ah ! where is my dear good father ? Wo ! he deep lies buried. Where my mother ? O good mother ! O'er her grows the grass ! Brothers have I not, nor sisters, And my lad is gone ! SERVIAN S ONG.
Seite 32 - ... for learning languages ; and it was probably here too, that Constantine learned Armenian; for the introduction of several Armenian letters into the Slavic alphabet seems to prove, that this language was not unknown to him. When grown up, his parents sent him to Byzantium, where he entered the clerical profession. It is reported that there came ambassadors from the Khazares, a Hunnic-Tartaric tribe, to the emperor Michael, to ask for a teacher in Christianity. On the recommendation of Ignatius,...
Seite 392 - The maiden went for water, To the well o'er the meadow away; She there could draw no water, So thick the frost it lay. The mother she grew angry; She had it long to bemoan; "O daughter mine, O daughter, I would thou wert a stone!
Seite 198 - BO much as to be made rector at Prerow, when only twenty-two years old ; and two years later was transferred to Fulnek. In 1618 this latter city was plundered by the Spaniards, and Comenius lost all his books and other property. When the great persecution of the Protestants broke out, he fled to Poland. Here he found many of his countrymen, of the sect of the Brethren, whom the persecutions of the former century had already driven hither, and who had here gathered themselves into communities essentially...
Seite 387 - O my fountain, so fresh and cool, O my rose, so rosy red! Why art thou blown out so early? None have I to pluck thee for! If I plucked thee for my mother, Ah! poor girl, I have no mother; If I plucked thee for my sister, Gone is my sister with her husband ; If I plucked thee for my brother, To the war my brother's gone. If I plucked thee for my lover, Gone is my love so far away! Far away o'er three green mountains, Far away o'er three cool fountains!

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