Was andere dazu sagen - Rezension schreiben
Es wurden keine Rezensionen gefunden.
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Acadian American andere Anmerkung auch Ausgabe Basil beauty church darkness daß descended Dichter Dichtung Ende englischen Hexameters English erste Evangeline eyes face farmer Father finden flowers folgende follow forest Gabriel Gedicht geheftet Geschichte green Haliburton hand head heard heart Hexameter hundred Indian Jahre Kritiker land leaves light lived lodge London Longfellow looked Magazine maiden meadows Miles Moowis morning Mountains Natur neighboring nicht night North o'er passed poem prairies priest returned Review river rose seemed seine seiner shore sich side Siehe silent slowly sorrow sound spirit stood street summer Teil Text thought Verse village voice weniger Werke wild wind wird Wort wurde young
Seite 45 - Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant, Shut out the turbulent tides ; but at stated seasons the flood-gates Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows. West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northward Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic Looked on the happy valley, but...
Seite 137 - And when the men of that place had knowledge of him, they sent out into all that country round about, and brought unto him all that were diseased; 36 And besought him that they might only touch the hem of his garment: and as many as touched were made perfectly whole.
Seite 98 - Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen.
Seite 122 - IN that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware's waters, Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle, Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded. There all the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem of beauty, And. the streets still reecho the names of the trees of the forest, As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they molested.
Seite 48 - Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell from its turret Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his hyssop Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon them...
Seite 89 - Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted ; If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment ; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
Seite 127 - And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the morning. Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terrible anguish, That the dying heard it, and started up from their pillows.
Seite 127 - Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline entered, Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she passed, for her presence Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls of a prison.
Seite 130 - Still stands the forest primeval ; but under the shade of its branches Dwells another race, with other customs and language. Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom. In the fisherman's Cot the wheel and the loom are still busy ; Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of homespun, And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story, While from its rocky caverns...