The Tree of Mythology, Its Growth and Fruitage: Genesis of the Nursery Tale, Saws of Folk-lore, Etc

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C. W. Bardeen, 1889 - 288 páginas
 

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Página 214 - Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood, Stand dressed in living green ; So to the Jews old Canaan stood, While Jordan rolled between.
Página 225 - I long ago lost a hound, a bay horse, and a turtle-dove, and am still on their trail. Many are the travellers I have spoken concerning them, describing their tracks and what calls they answered to. I have met one or two who had heard the hound, and the tramp of the horse, and even seen the dove disappear behind a cloud, and they seemed as anxious to recover them as if they had lost them themselves.
Página 70 - Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains, They crowned him long ago On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, With a diadem of snow.
Página 195 - Pindar; but, when some one was commending them, he said that "^Eschylus and the Greeks, in describing Apollo and Orpheus, had given no song, or no good one. They ought not to have moved trees, but to have chanted to the gods such a hymn as would have sung all their old ideas out of their heads, and new ones in.
Página 214 - There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign; Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flowers ; Death like a narrow sea divides This heavenly land from ours.
Página 13 - Did you never observe (while rocking winds are piping loud) that pause, as the gust is recollecting itself, and rising upon the ear in a shrill and plaintive note, like the swell of an ^Eolian harp ? I do assure you there is nothing in the world so like the voice of a spirit.
Página 234 - ... melt in air, — the flux of power is eternally the same. It rolls in music through the ages, and all terrestrial energy, — the manifestations of life, as well as the display of phenomena, are but the modulations of its rhythm.
Página 27 - Go thou to men, and tell them, As I die, and dying live, so ye shall also die, and dying live.
Página 221 - Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres I find a magic bark ; I leap on board : no helmsman steers : I float till all is dark. A gentle sound, an awful light! Three angels bear the holy Grail: With folded feet, in stoles of white, On sleeping wings they sail. Ah, blessed vision ! blood of God ! My spirit beats her mortal bars, As down dark tides the glory slides, And star-like mingles with the stars. When on my goodly charger borne Thro...
Página 255 - And remember, this is not poetry, but rigid mechanical truth. He rears, as I have said, the whole vegetable world, and through it the animal : the lilies of the field are his workmanship, the verdure of the meadows, and the cattle upon a thousand hills. He forms the muscle, he urges the blood ; he builds the brain. His fleetness is in the lion's foot ; he springs in the panther, he soars in the eagle, he slides in the snake. He builds the forest and hews it down, the power which raised the tree and...

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