Handbuch der nordamericanischen National-Literatur: Sammlung von Munsterstücken nebst einer literar-historischen Abhandlung ueber den Entwicklungsgang der englischen Sprache und Literatur in Nord-America (Google eBook)

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Ludwig Herrig
G. Westermann, 1854 - American literature
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Page 41 - Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean shall exist Thy image.
Page 52 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow...
Page 55 - Hear the loud alarum bells, Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire...
Page 51 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and. curious volume of forgotten lore — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " "Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.
Page 54 - Gentlemen may cry peace, peace ! but there is no peace. The war is actually begun ! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field ! Why stand we here idle ? What is it that gentlemen wish ? What would they have ? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery...
Page 40 - Tis of the wave and not the rock; Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee...
Page 28 - I asked his daughter's hand Mute did the minstrels stand To hear my story. "While the brown ale he quaffed, Loud then the champion laughed, And as the wind-gusts waft The sea-foam brightly, So the loud laugh of scorn, Out of those lips unshorn, From the deep drinking-horn Blew the foam lightly. "She was a Prince's child, I but a Viking wild, And though she blushed and smiled, I was discarded! Should not the dove so white Follow the sea-mew's flight, Why did they leave that night Her nest unguarded?
Page 30 - Try not the Pass!" the old man said; "Dark lowers the tempest overhead, The roaring torrent is deep and wide ! " And loud that clarion voice replied, Excelsior ! "0 stay," the maiden said, "and rest Thy weary head upon this breast...
Page 77 - Come to the bridal chamber, Death! Come to the mother's, when she feels, For the flrst time, her first-born's breath; Come when the blessed seals That close the pestilence are broke, And crowded cities wail its stroke; Come in consumption's ghastly form, The earthquake shock , the ocean storm; Come when the heart beats high and warm, With...
Page 153 - When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood!

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