Library of the World's Best Literature: Ancient and ModernCharles Dudley Warner International Society, 1897 |
מתוך הספר
תוצאות 1-5 מתוך 28
עמוד 3511
... trees . At the city gate I was compelled to hear again from the sentinel , " Where has the gentleman left his shadow ? " And immediately again from some women , " Jesus Maria ! the poor fellow has no shadow ! " That began to irritate me ...
... trees . At the city gate I was compelled to hear again from the sentinel , " Where has the gentleman left his shadow ? " And immediately again from some women , " Jesus Maria ! the poor fellow has no shadow ! " That began to irritate me ...
עמוד 3529
... trees , and weatherbeaten - hued , Bold of his strength goes on , and in his eye A burning furnace glows , all bent to prey On sheep , or oxen , or the upland hart , His belly charging him , and he must part Stakes with the herdsman in ...
... trees , and weatherbeaten - hued , Bold of his strength goes on , and in his eye A burning furnace glows , all bent to prey On sheep , or oxen , or the upland hart , His belly charging him , and he must part Stakes with the herdsman in ...
עמוד 3537
... trees . The heavens were rent , and the lightning traced a flashing zigzag of fire . A furious gale from the west piled up the angry clouds in heavy masses ; the mighty trees bowed their heads to the blast . Again and again the sky was ...
... trees . The heavens were rent , and the lightning traced a flashing zigzag of fire . A furious gale from the west piled up the angry clouds in heavy masses ; the mighty trees bowed their heads to the blast . Again and again the sky was ...
עמוד 3538
... tree , I succeeded in protect- ing her from the torrents of rain . Seated myself under the tree , supporting my well - beloved on my knees , and chafing her bare feet between my hands , I was even happier than the young wife who feels ...
... tree , I succeeded in protect- ing her from the torrents of rain . Seated myself under the tree , supporting my well - beloved on my knees , and chafing her bare feet between my hands , I was even happier than the young wife who feels ...
עמוד 3545
... tree . Swote hys tyngue as the throstles note , Quycke ynn daunce as thoughte canne bee , Defte hys taboure , codgelle stote , O ! hee lyes bie the wyllowe tree ; Mie love ys dedde , Gonne to hys deathe - bedde , Alle underre the wylowe ...
... tree . Swote hys tyngue as the throstles note , Quycke ynn daunce as thoughte canne bee , Defte hys taboure , codgelle stote , O ! hee lyes bie the wyllowe tree ; Mie love ys dedde , Gonne to hys deathe - bedde , Alle underre the wylowe ...
מהדורות אחרות - הצג הכל
מונחים וביטויים נפוצים
Adelbert von Chamisso Alfonso Almoravides André Chénier ballads beautiful Brohl Bruff Cæsar called Canterbury Tales Chamisso Chanticleer Chapman character Châteaubriand Chatterton Chaucer Chénier Choate Christian Cicero Clay Coleridge Confucius death dream England English eyes father fear feel Gabbett genius GEOFFREY CHAUCER GEORGE CHAPMAN give glory hand hath head heart heaven Henry Clay Homer honor human interest Jimena King letters liberty literary literature live look Lorcy Lord MENCIUS mind moral nature Nausicaa never night once orator passed passion poems poet poetry political religion Rodrigo Samuel Brohl seemed shadow side song soul speak speech spirit stood sweet tell thee things Thomas Chatterton thou thought tion Tom Canty took translation truth turned Valencia verse Vetch Victor Cherbuliez virtue voice words writing wyllowe ynne young
קטעים בולטים
עמוד 3835 - In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round: And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
עמוד 3848 - He threw his blood-stained sword, in thunder, down ; And with a withering look, The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe...
עמוד 3838 - And the slant night-shower driving loud and fast! Those sounds which oft have raised me, whilst they awed, And sent my soul abroad, Might now perhaps their wonted impulse give, Might startle this dull pain, and make it move and live! II A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear, A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief, Which finds no natural outlet, no relief, In word, or sigh, or tear— 0 Lady!
עמוד 3838 - The Sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. "And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners
עמוד 3809 - IT fortifies my soul to know That, though I perish, Truth is so : That, howsoe'er I stray and range, Whate'er I do, Thou dost not change. I steadier step when I recall That, if I slip, Thou dost not fall.
עמוד 3811 - When fell the night, upsprung the breeze, And all the darkling hours they plied, Nor dreamt but each the self-same seas By each was cleaving, side by side : E'en so — but why the tale reveal Of those whom, year by year unchanged, Brief absence joined anew to feel, Astounded, soul from soul estranged?
עמוד 3847 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ? Still it whisper'd promised pleasure And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail!
עמוד 3838 - Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud — We in ourselves rejoice! And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight, All melodies the echoes of that voice, All colours a suffusion from that light.
עמוד 3838 - WELL ! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence, This night, so tranquil now, will not go hence Unroused by winds, that ply a busier trade Than those which mould yon cloud in lazy flakes, Or the dull sobbing draft, that moans and rakes Upon the strings of this ^Eolian lute, Which better far were mute.
עמוד 3846 - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.