Buds and Bird Voices; From "Mosses from an Old Manse" PDF Download
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Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
Publisher: BoD – Books on Demand
ISBN: 3387332513
Category : Fiction
Languages : en
Pages : 21
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Book Description
Reproduction of the original. The publishing house Megali specialises in reproducing historical works in large print to make reading easier for people with impaired vision.
Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
Publisher: BoD – Books on Demand
ISBN: 3387332513
Category : Fiction
Languages : en
Pages : 21
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Book Description
Reproduction of the original. The publishing house Megali specialises in reproducing historical works in large print to make reading easier for people with impaired vision.
Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
Publisher:
ISBN:
Category :
Languages : en
Pages : 5
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Author: Натаниель Готорн
Publisher: Litres
ISBN: 5040867220
Category : Fiction
Languages : en
Pages : 14
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Author:
Publisher: ICON Group International
ISBN:
Category :
Languages : en
Pages :
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Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
Publisher: Good Press
ISBN:
Category : Fiction
Languages : en
Pages : 21
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"Buds and Bird Voices (From "Mosses from an Old Manse")" by Nathaniel Hawthorne takes readers back to the Old Manse in Massachusettes, where the author and his wife spent the first years of their marriage. Written with nostalgia and clear adoration for this quaint home, Hawthorne describes nature from the trees to the birds that he enjoyed every day during his time in this beloved part of the country.
Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
Publisher:
ISBN:
Category :
Languages : en
Pages :
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Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
Publisher:
ISBN:
Category :
Languages : en
Pages :
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Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
Publisher:
ISBN:
Category :
Languages : en
Pages : 26
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Balmy Spring-weeks later than we expected and months later than we longed for her-comes at last to revive the moss on the roof and walls of our old mansion. She peeps brightly into my study-window, inviting me to throw it open and create a summer atmosphere by the intermixture of her genial breath with the black and cheerless comfort of the stove. As the casement ascends, forth into infinite space fly the innumerable forms of thought or fancy that have kept me company in the retirement of this little chamber during the sluggish lapse of wintry weather; visions, gay, grotesque, and sad; pictures of real life, tinted with nature's homely gray and russet; scenes in dreamland, bedizened with rainbow hues which faded before they were well laid on, -all these may vanish now, and leave me to mould a fresh existence out of sunshine, Brooding Meditation may flap her dusky wings and take her owl-like Right, blinking amid the cheerfulness of noontide. Such companions befit the season of frosted window-panes and crackling fires, when the blast howls through the black-ash trees of our avenue and the drifting snow-storm chokes up the wood-paths and fills the highway from stone wall to stone wall. In the spring and summer time all sombre thoughts should follow the winter northward with the sombre and thoughtful crows. The old paradisiacal economy of life is again in force; we live, not to think or to labor, but for the simple end of being happy. Nothing for the present hour is worthy of man's infinite capacity save to imbibe the warm smile of heaven and sympathize with the reviving earth.The present Spring comes onward with fleeter footsteps, because Winter lingered so unconscionably long that with her best diligence she can hardly retrieve half the allotted period of her reign. It is but a fortnight since I stood on the brink of our swollen river and beheld the accumulated ice of four frozen months go down the stream. Except in streaks here and there upon the hillsides, the whole visible universe was then covered with deep snow, the nethermost layer of which had been deposited by an early December storm. It was a sight to make the beholder torpid, in the impossibility of imagining how this vast white napkin was to be removed from the face of the corpse-like world in less time than had been required to spread it there. But who can estimate the power of gentle influences, whether amid material desolation or the moral winter of man's heart? There have been no tempestuous rains, even no sultry days, but a constant breath of southern winds, with now a day of kindly sunshine, and now a no less kindly mist or a soft descent of showers, in which a smile and a blessing seemed to have been steeped. The snow has vanished as if by magic; whatever heaps may be hidden in the woods and deep gorges of the hills, only two solitary specks remain in the landscape; and those I shall almost regret to miss when to-morrow I look for them in vain. Never before, methinks, has spring pressed so closely on the footsteps of retreating winter. Along the roadside the green blades of grass have sprouted on the very edge of the snow-drifts. The pastures and mowing-fields have not vet assumed a general aspect of verdure; but neither have they the cheerless-brown tint which they wear in latter autumn when vegetation has entirely ceased; there is now a faint shadow of life, gradually brightening into the warm reality
Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
Publisher:
ISBN:
Category :
Languages : en
Pages : 0
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Author: Nathaniel Hawthorne
Publisher:
ISBN:
Category :
Languages : en
Pages : 32
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Book Description
Balmy Spring-weeks later than we expected and months later than we longed for her-comes at last to revive the moss on the roof and walls of our old mansion. She peeps brightly into my study-window, inviting me to throw it open and create a summer atmosphere by the intermixture of her genial breath with the black and cheerless comfort of the stove. As the casement ascends, forth into infinite space fly the innumerable forms of thought or fancy that have kept me company in the retirement of this little chamber during the sluggish lapse of wintry weather; visions, gay, grotesque, and sad; pictures of real life, tinted with nature's homely gray and russet; scenes in dreamland, bedizened with rainbow hues which faded before they were well laid on, -all these may vanish now, and leave me to mould a fresh existence out of sunshine, Brooding Meditation may flap her dusky wings and take her owl-like Right, blinking amid the cheerfulness of noontide. Such companions befit the season of frosted window-panes and crackling fires, when the blast howls through the black-ash trees of our avenue and the drifting snow-storm chokes up the wood-paths and fills the highway from stone wall to stone wall