Letters of Celia ThaxterHoughton, Mifflin and Company, 1896 - 230 páginas |
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LETTERS OF CELIA THAXTER Celia 1835-1894 Thaxter,Annie 1834-1915 Ed Fields Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Términos y frases comunes
47 State St Anethe Annie Fields Appledore beautiful birds bloom blossoms blue boat Bradford Torrey brother Celia Thaxter charming color creature dark dear little delicious delightful doors E. C. Hoxie Eichberg everything exquisite eyes Feroline flock flowers friends garden glad gone granna happy hear heard heart heaven heavenly hope human island Isles of Shoals John Weiss Julius Eichberg Karl kind Kittery Point letter Levi light live Lizzie look Miss morning mother never Newtonville night paint parlor piazza Piscataqua River poem Pompeii poor Portsmouth Rose Lamb round sails sandpipers Sarah Orne Jewett scarlet seems snow song sparrows sorry splendid Star Island stay storm summer sunset sweet tell thank things thought to-day watch weather White Island Whittier wind window winter wish wonder write yesterday you¹ your¹
Pasajes populares
Página xvi - I GIVE you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball ; It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall.
Página 39 - Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge- — That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture!
Página xxi - Better than a shopful of toys they were to me ! • Whence came their color ? How did they draw • their sweet, refreshing tint from the brown earth, or the limpid air, or the white light ? Chemistry was not at hand to answer me, and all her wisdom would not have dispelled the wonder.
Página xxi - Chemistry was not at hand to answer me, and all her wisdom would not have dispelled the wonder. Later the little scarlet pimpernel charmed me. It seemed more than a flower ; it was like a human thing. I knew it by its homely name of poor-man's weatherglass. It was so much wiser than I, for, when the sky was yet without a cloud, softly it clasped its small red petals together, folding its golden heart in safety from the shower that was sure to come ! How could it know so much ? Here is a question...
Página xii - Neither am I ungrateful ; but I dream Deliciously how twilight falls to-night Over the glimmering water, how the light Dies blissfully away, until I seem To feel the wind, sea-scented, on my cheek, To catch the sound of dusky, flapping sail, And dip of oars, and voices on the gale Afar off, calling low, — my name they speak ! O Earth ! thy summer song of joy may soar Ringing to heaven in triumph.
Página 188 - It is the property of the religious sentiment to be the .most refining of all influences. No external advantages, no good birth or breeding, no culture of the taste, no habit of command, no association with the elegant, — even no depth of affection that does not rise to a religious sentiment, can bestow that delicacy and grandeur of bearing which belong only to a mind accustomed to celestial conversation.
Página xxvi - Who besides the writer should comprehend every shade of meaning which made the cloud or sunshine of his poem ? Mrs. Thaxter certainly read her own verse with a fullness of suggestion which no other reader could have given it ; and her voice was sufficient, too, although not loud or striking, to fill and satisfy the ear of the listener. But at the risk of repetition we recall that it was her own generous, beautiful nature, unlike that of any other, which made her reading helpful to all who heard her....
Página xii - BLACK lie the hills, swiftly doth daylight flee, And catching gleams of sunset's dying smile, Through the dusk land for many a changing mile The river runneth softly to the sea. O happy river, could I follow thee! O yearning heart, that never can be still! O wistful eyes, that watch the steadfast hill, Longing for level line of solemn sea...
Página 86 - Thaxter's funds of vitality were not yet exhausted. She could take these misfortunes in her stride, with only an occasional halting step. Then in 1877 her mother died. The unhinging impact of this blow is best described in a letter of Celia to Mrs. Fields: There is no comfort for us anywhere except by the gradual hand of time. The "consolations of religion
Página 143 - By the Brahmins, reverence of masters is considered the most sacred of duties. Thee therefore, first, most holy prophet, interpreter of the Deity, by whatever name thou wast called among mortals, the author of this poem, by whose oracles the mind is rapt with ineffable delight to doctrines lofty, eternal, and divine — thee first, I say, I hail, and shall always worship at thy feet.