Letters of Celia ThaxterHoughton, Mifflin, 1895 - 232 páginas |
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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 delicious delightful door E. C. Hoxie Eichberg everything exquisite eyes Feroline flock flowers 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 sings 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 xviii - 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 xiv - Have patience ; here are flowers and songs of birds, Beauty and fragrance, wealth of sound and sight, All summer's glory thine from morn till night, And life too full of joy for uttered words. 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, —...
Página 41 - 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 xxiii - 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 xxi - I watched the making of that little chrysalis; and at night the last nail was driven in, and it lay across a bench in the midst of the litter of the workshop, and a curious stillness seemed to emanate from the senseless boards. I went back to the house and gathered a handful of scarlet geranium, and returned with it through the rain. The brilliant blossoms were sprinkled with glittering drops. I laid them in the little coffin, while the wind wailed so sorrowfully outside, and the rain poured against...
Página xxiii - I remember in the spring kneeling on the ground to seek the first blades of grass that pricked through the soil, and bringing them into the house to study and wonder over. Better than a shop full 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 vii - ... toughed it out'' on the distant ledge, and her captain told me that no one could stand on board of her, the pressure of the wind down on her decks was so great that she shuddered from stem to stern, and he feared she would shake to pieces, for she was old and not very seaworthy. Some of the men had wives and children watching them from lighted windows at Star. What a fearful night for them ! They could not tell from hour to hour, through the thick darkness, if yet the cables held ; they could...
Página iv - And all the pictures over which I dream are set in this framework of the sea, that sparkled and sang, or frowned and threatened, in the ages that are gone as it does to-day...
Página xxviii - 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 xiv - 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...