What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
able Acadian Adalgisa afraid American Business Methods Artunni beautiful become best short story Bob Taylor character Columbine Common Lot dear disciples Donna Sophia door dream dressed enters Evangeline exit expression eyes Faustina Faustina Faustina feel flowers Francis Thompson Frithiof's Saga give goes hand Harrington heart Herrick's hope impression J. M. SYNGE Joseph kiss Lady live Longfellow looking Lord's Supper Luciano Madam Julia Madam Marnieri Madam Mirelli Magazine Manlio Marchioness mind nature never night Pause peasant Pierrot play poem POET LORE ADVERTISER poetry Punchinello Raymond Reiar Roberto Bracco sadly Scene seems silence Sister Elisabeth society song sorrow Sotersdal soul speak Sweden Swedish Synge tears Tegner's tell things thou thought to-day to-night told trying Urgele village voice window wish woman women words worry young youth
Page 296 - Ah! must — Designer infinite! — Ah! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it? My freshness spent its wavering shower i...
Page 297 - They at least are for me, surely for me! I turned me to them very wistfully; But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair With dawning answers there, Their angel plucked them from me by the hair. "Come then, ye other children, Nature's - share With me...
Page 365 - In a good play every speech should be as fully flavoured as a nut or apple, and such speeches cannot be written by anyone who works among people who have shut their lips on poetry.
Page 307 - May-pole fifty feet high, with wreaths, and roses, and ribbons streaming in the wind, and a noisy weathercock on top, to tell the village whence the wind cometh and whither it goeth.
Page 303 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of old, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms...
Page 317 - Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from the belfry of Christ Church, While, intermingled with these, across the meadows were wafted Sounds of psalms that were sung by the Swedes in their church at Wicaco, Soft as descending wings fell the calm of the hour on her spirit; Something within her said, "At length thy trials are ended;" And, with light in her looks, she entered the chambers of sickness.
Page 365 - Anyone who has lived in real intimacy with the Irish peasantry will know that the wildest sayings and ideas in this play are tame indeed, compared with the fancies one may hear in any little hillside cabin in Geesala, or Carraroe, or Dingle Bay.
Page 299 - How should I gauge what beauty is her dole, Who cannot see her countenance for her soul ; As birds see not the casement for the sky ? And as 'tis check they prove its presence by, I know not of her body till I find My flight debarred the heaven of her mind.
Page 317 - Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers in the garden ; And she paused on her way to gather the fairest among them, That the dying once more might rejoice in their fragrance and beauty. Then, as she mounted the stairs to the corridors, cooled by the...
Page 300 - Or higher, holier, saintlier when, as now, All Nature sacerdotal seems, and thou. The calm hour strikes on yon golden gong, In tones of floating and mellow light, A spreading summons to even-song: See how there The cowled Night Kneels on the Eastern sanctuary-stair. What is this feel of incense everywhere? Clings it round folds of the blanch-amiced clouds, Upwafted by the solemn thurifer, The mighty Spirit unknown, That swingeth the slow earth before the embannered Throne?