Letters from the Backwoods and the Adirondac

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J.S. Taylor, 1850 - 105 sidor

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Sida 82 - The stag at eve had drunk his fill, Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, And deep his midnight lair had made In lone Glenartney's hazel shade...
Sida 21 - Inaudible by daylight, blend their notes With the loud streams : and often, at the hour When issue forth the first pale stars, is heard, Within the circuit of this fabric huge, One voice, the solitary raven, flying Athwart the concave of the dark blue dome, Unseen, perchance above all power of sight — An iron knell ! with echoes from afar Faint, and still fainter...
Sida 21 - Has not the soul, the being of your life, Received a shock of awful consciousness, In some calm season, when these lofty rocks At night's approach bring down the unclouded sky, To rest upon their circumambient walls ; A temple framing of dimensions vast, And yet not too enormous for the sound Of human anthems, choral song, or burst Sublime of instrumental harmony, To glorify...
Sida 21 - And blind recesses of the caverned rocks ; The little rills, and waters numberless, Inaudible by daylight, blend their notes With the loud streams : and often, at the hour When issue forth the first pale stars, is heard, Within the circuit of this fabric huge, One voice...
Sida 40 - It is nonsense to talk of dignity, and the impropriety of a man's carrying a rifle and fishing-tackle, and spending his time in shooting deer and catching trout. Such folly is becoming to him only, who sits on the piazza of a hotel at Saratoga Springs, at the expense of twelve dollars a week for his health. I love nature and all things as God has made them. I love the freedom of the wilderness and the absence of conventional forms there. I love the long stretch through the forest on foot, and the...
Sida 68 - I thereupon fell to thinking that it is very true, what they say, that half the world does not know how the other half lives...
Sida 25 - It appears to stand between two promontories whose green and rounded points are striving to reach it as they push, boldly out into the water, while with its abrupt, high banks, from which go up the lofty pine-trees, it looks like a huge green cylinder sunk there endwise in the waves. I wish I owned that island, — it would be pleasant to be possessor of so much beauty.

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