Miniature Romances from the German: With Other Prolusions of Light LiteratureC. C. Little & J. Brown, 1841 - 324 pages |
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Page viii
... tenderness is no where wholly ex- tinct long as it may lie slumbering in the soul , it is too inseparable a part of our being ever to die . Is not imagination a germ of immor- tality ? I am gratified to perceive that many writers allude ...
... tenderness is no where wholly ex- tinct long as it may lie slumbering in the soul , it is too inseparable a part of our being ever to die . Is not imagination a germ of immor- tality ? I am gratified to perceive that many writers allude ...
Page 40
... tenderness for them all , even for the ancient mistress of the house , and his whole life flowed on in the calm stream of contentment . But still there came some interruption at last . The fisherman and the knight had been accustomed at ...
... tenderness for them all , even for the ancient mistress of the house , and his whole life flowed on in the calm stream of contentment . But still there came some interruption at last . The fisherman and the knight had been accustomed at ...
Page 55
... tenderness , while she drew him gently out before the door , where the setting sun shone richly over the fresh grass , and upon the high , slender boles of the trees . Her emotion was visible : the dew of sadness and love swam in her ...
... tenderness , while she drew him gently out before the door , where the setting sun shone richly over the fresh grass , and upon the high , slender boles of the trees . Her emotion was visible : the dew of sadness and love swam in her ...
Page 58
... tenderness and love , clasped her in his arms , and again bore her back to the shore . There , amid tears and kisses , he first swore never to forsake his affectionate wife , and esteemed himself even more happy ' than the Grecian ...
... tenderness and love , clasped her in his arms , and again bore her back to the shore . There , amid tears and kisses , he first swore never to forsake his affectionate wife , and esteemed himself even more happy ' than the Grecian ...
Page 61
... tenderness , had no eyes but for him ; and they soon entered into the mute and voiceless converse of looks and gestures , from which after some time they were awakened by the low discourse , which the priest was holding with a fourth ...
... tenderness , had no eyes but for him ; and they soon entered into the mute and voiceless converse of looks and gestures , from which after some time they were awakened by the low discourse , which the priest was holding with a fourth ...
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Common terms and phrases
Almadora amid ancholy appeared beams beautiful Bertalda Bertha Berthold blessed Brandan's breathed bright burst C. C. LITTLE CHAPTER cottage courser cried Danube dawn dear death deep delight door dream ducats earth emotion Eumela evil exclaimed eyes Fairylore father fear feeling felt forest frostwork gave gazed gondolier groschen hand heard heart heaven hope horse hour Huldbrand imagination island knight Kühleborn lady laugh light Logoul look Maduba magic magic illusion magician Mediterranean Sea mind moon morning mountain Muzoil mysterious never old fisherman Palermo perceived Phantasmion portmanteau pray priest ravine replied returned Richard rushed S. T. Coleridge scene seemed Seraphina Simplicio smile soon soul spirit spoke stept stood strange stranger stream sweet tears tenderness terror thing thought trembling truth Undine Undine's vial voice watchmen waves weeping WERTER whispered wife wild wish wonder words young
Popular passages
Page 313 - ALL thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve!
Page 323 - To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Page 315 - For well she knew I could not choose But gaze upon her face. I told her of the Knight that wore Upon his shield a burning brand; And that for ten long years he wooed The Lady of the Land. I told her how he pined; and ah! The deep, the low, the pleading tone With which I sang another's love Interpreted my own.
Page 205 - First the flaming red Sprung vivid forth ; the tawny orange next ; And next delicious yellow ; by whose side Fell the kind beams of all-refreshing green. Then the pure blue, that swells autumnal skies, Ethereal played ; and then, of sadder hue, Emerged the deepened indigo, as when The heavy-skirted evening droops with frost ; While the last gleamings of refracted light Died in the fainting violet away.
Page 319 - She pressed me with a meek embrace; And bending back her head, looked up, And gazed upon my face. 'Twas partly love, and partly fear, And partly 'twas a bashful art, That I might rather feel, than see, The swelling of her heart.
Page 317 - All impulses of soul and sense Had thrill'd my guileless Genevieve; The music and the doleful tale, The rich and balmy eve; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, An undistinguishable throng, And gentle wishes long subdued, Subdued and cherish'd long!
Page 317 - He leaped amid a murderous band, And saved from outrage worse than death The Lady of the Land! And how she wept, and...
Page 320 - The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.
Page 313 - And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve ! She leant against the armed man, The statue of the armed knight ; She stood and listen'd to my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve.
Page 57 - The element moves us, and, again, is obedient to our will while we live, though it scatters us like dust when we die ; and as we have nothing to trouble us, we are as merry as nightingales, little gold-fishes, and other pretty children of nature. But all beings aspire to rise in the scale of existence higher than they are. It was therefore the wish of my father, who is a powerful water-prince in the Mediterranean Sea, that his only daughter should become possessed of a soul, although she should have...