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Updated: May 9, 2025
Tightly the hand was clasped. "It is I your old pupil, though so altered, I wonder not that you fail to recognize me." She lifted her eyes and met Dr. Bryant's gaze, deep and piercing, as though he were reading her inmost soul. Mr. Stewart looked long at the face turned toward him. "Frank, you did not tell me she was with you! Oh, how changed how wasted you are!
Bryant's brief residence in New York had enlarged his circle of friends, among whom were Robert C. Sands, who was associated with him in the New York Review, Fitz-Greene Halleck, Gulian C. Verplanck, and others; and it had added to his popularity as a writer, the excellence and variety of his poems embracing a wider range of subjects than he had hitherto chosen.
Future ages will have to determine this; but he was certainly one of the best poets of his time. Professor Hedge, one of our foremost literary critics, spoke of him as the one American poet whose verses sing themselves; and with the exception of Bryant's "Robert of Lincoln," and Poe's "Raven," and a few other pieces, this may be taken as a judicious statement.
Oh, I'll be a lamb, if I can only have that lovely ring! It's ever so much prettier than Kitty Bryant's. I do like Aunt March after all." And Amy tried on the blue ring with a delighted face and a firm resolve to earn it. From that day she was a model of obedience, and the old lady complacently admired the success of her training.
But the bluebird is not strictly a songster in the sense in which the song sparrow or the indigo-bird, or the English robin redbreast, is; nor do Bryant's lines hit the mark: "The bluebird chants, from the elm's long branches, A hymn to welcome the budding year." Lowell, again, is nearer the truth when he speaks of his "whiff of song."
Then the men will be back and ready to jump in the ditch when the shot's fired." "And be done twenty-four hours before the hour set by the Land and Water Board," said Lee. "That's cutting it fine enough as it is. Who's that waving yonder toward camp?" And Carrigan pointed a mittened hand at a figure swinging an arm and shouting Bryant's name. The engineer stared for a time.
In this volume of Freiligrath's, among other things, is a translation of Bryant's magnificent poem "The Winds," and Burns's "A man's a man for a' that;" and I have translated one of his, as a specimen of the spirit in which they are written: FREEDOM AND RIGHT.
Bryant's name will appear on the title page of this work, and that it was written by him?" "Certainly," was the reply; "not that he has written the whole, but much of it." I could n't believe that, and was declining to subscribe, when my wife that woman has a great respect for you called me aside and said, "I wish you would take this book."
When I sang, "For We Have Found Our Mittens," there was, she said, such a jubilant ring in my voice that her heart leaped for joy. Mr. Bancroft sent me the next day a volume of Bryant's poems, with the dedication, "To Miss Lillie Greenough, in souvenir of a never-forgetable evening."
Irving's temperament shown in this work as contrasted with Knickerbocker, and the probable cause of this change. Mr. Bryant's very delicate and judicious reference to the fact of Mr. Irving's early engagement was undoubtedly correct. A miniature of a young lady, intellectual, refined, and beautiful, was handed me one day by Mr.
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