The Scenery of Ithaca and the Head Waters of the Cayuga LakeS. Spencer, 1866 - 150 pages |
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The Scenery of Ithaca and the Head Waters of the Cayuga Lake Spence Spencer No preview available - 2015 |
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amphitheatre ascend Aurora bank beauty beneath bridge building Buttermilk cascade Cascadilla Cataract Cayuga Lake charming chasm cliff climb Clinton House cool Cornell Library CORNELL UNIVERSITY dark deep delightful descend dilla distance dollars Enfield enterprise evergreens Ezra Cornell Fall Creek fifty feet finest view flood foam foot Forest Fall front Genesee College glen gliding gorge grand green hand height hills hundred feet Ithaca Fall John McGraw KATE MORGAN leave lichens Lick Brook look LUCIFER FALLS mill Monument Rock moss mossy narrow nature Owego party pass path picturesque pines pleasant precipice pulpit rock quiet rail road Ravine reach rise roar rocky wall scene scenery second Fall seems seen shade side Six Mile Creek slope spot spray stand steep steps stone summer summit Taghkanic Fall tourist trees Triphammer turn valley village walk waterfalls wild wonder woodland woods
Popular passages
Page 57 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Page 71 - THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave. And spread the roof above them, — ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.
Page 100 - For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin?
Page 68 - ... Recoiling, turmoiling and toiling and boiling, And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming, And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing, And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping, And curling and whirling and purling and twirling, And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping, And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing; And so never ending, but always descending, Sounds and motions for ever and ever are blending All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar,...
Page 74 - I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling, And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel, And draw them all along, and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Page 73 - THERE is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes: Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro...
Page 73 - To hear each other's whispered speech ; Eating the Lotos day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy; To muse and brood and live again in memory, With those old faces of our infancy Heaped over with a mound of grass, Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass!
Page 75 - The rivulet Sends forth glad sounds, and tripping o'er its bed Of pebbly sands, or leaping down the rocks, Seems, with continuous laughter, to rejoice In its own being. Softly tread the marge, Lest from her midway perch thou scare the wren That dips her bill in water. The cool wind, That stirs the stream in play, shall come to thee, Like one that loves thee nor will let thee pass Ungreeted, and shall give its light embrace.
Page 61 - The roar of waters! — from the headlong height Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice; The fall of waters ! rapid as the light The flashing mass foams, shaking the abyss ; The hell of waters ! where they howl and hiss, > And boil in endless torture; while the sweat Of their great agony, wrung out from this Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set...
Page 93 - Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer Right onward.