Autumn: From the Journal of Henry D. Thoreau, Volume 7

Couverture
Houghton, Mifflin, 1892 - 470 pages
 

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Page 254 - Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I.
Page 402 - For summer being done, all things stand upon them with a weatherbeaten face, and the whole country, full of woods and thickets, represented a wild and savage hue.
Page 257 - I cannot but regard it as a kindness in those who have the steering of me that, by the want of pecuniary wealth, I have been nailed down to this my native region so long and steadily, and made to study and love this spot of earth more and more. What would signify in comparison a thin and diffused love and knowledge of the whole earth instead, got by wandering?
Page 418 - O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.
Page 116 - Talk about learning our letters and being literate! Why, the roots of letters are things. Natural objects and phenomena are the original symbols or types which express our thoughts and feelings, and yet American scholars, having little or no root in the soil, commonly strive with all their might to confine themselves to the imported symbols alone. All the true growth and experience, the living speech, they would fain reject as
Page 67 - I do not get nearer by a hair's breadth to any natural object, so long as I presume that I have an introduction to it from some learned man.
Page 124 - I see that my neighbors look with compassion on me, that they think it is a mean and unfortunate destiny which makes me to walk in these fields and woods so much and sail on this river alone. But so long as I find here the only real elysium, I cannot hesitate in my choice.
Page 402 - Cod; the weather was very cold, and it froze so hard as the spray of the sea lighting on their coats, they were as if they had been glazed...
Page 351 - THE INWARD MORNING. Packed in my mind lie all the clothes Which outward nature wears, And in its fashion's hourly change It all things else repairs. In vain I look for change abroad, And can no difference find, Till some new ray of peace uncalled Illumes my inmost mind. What is it gilds the trees and clouds, And paints the heavens so gay...

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