The Pocket magazine of classic and polite literature. [Continued as] The Pocket magazine1833 |
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Сторінка 52
... live , and how many days will you remain in the world ? What a world it is ! No confidence in friendship is left ! " The carpenter , on hearing these exclamations , was at first confounded with astonishment at the words of his companion ...
... live , and how many days will you remain in the world ? What a world it is ! No confidence in friendship is left ! " The carpenter , on hearing these exclamations , was at first confounded with astonishment at the words of his companion ...
Сторінка 57
... live in love with death . " says Shelley , " to think that we should be buried in so sweet a place . " The tombstone is a white marble , bearing the following inscription , surmounted by a lyre , in basso relievo : - " This grave ...
... live in love with death . " says Shelley , " to think that we should be buried in so sweet a place . " The tombstone is a white marble , bearing the following inscription , surmounted by a lyre , in basso relievo : - " This grave ...
Сторінка 58
... live . And dimly in the distance , just mingling with the skies , The giant mountains ' shadowy peaks in solemn grandeur rise ; And aromatic flowers and fruits pour their rich odors forth , In incense wafted on the winds as an offering ...
... live . And dimly in the distance , just mingling with the skies , The giant mountains ' shadowy peaks in solemn grandeur rise ; And aromatic flowers and fruits pour their rich odors forth , In incense wafted on the winds as an offering ...
Сторінка 65
... live like a " " A seventh son , " responded the eye sparkling stranger . The old man agreed , that as the traveller could not carry so much specie in his saddle bags , that he would commute with him for bills to the value of three ...
... live like a " " A seventh son , " responded the eye sparkling stranger . The old man agreed , that as the traveller could not carry so much specie in his saddle bags , that he would commute with him for bills to the value of three ...
Сторінка 91
... live with wild beasts . " The execution of this sentence was however deferred , that it might be witnessed by the multitude . The day preceding , the intended victim wrote thus to Callisthenes " I am going to die . All the hopes with ...
... live with wild beasts . " The execution of this sentence was however deferred , that it might be witnessed by the multitude . The day preceding , the intended victim wrote thus to Callisthenes " I am going to die . All the hopes with ...
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The Pocket magazine of classic and polite literature. [Continued as ..., Том 9 Повний перегляд - 1822 |
The Pocket magazine of classic and polite literature. [Continued as ..., Том 8 Повний перегляд - 1821 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
Adelinda Albruzzo Amalberga appeared arms baron beauty Black Forest bosom breath bright brow called Callisthenes castle countenance country comforts cried Cuvier dark daughter dead dear death deep delight door dream Duke of Rothesay earth East Woodhay EDWARD ALLEYN Elvira exclaimed eyes fair father fear feel feet forest gentleman Geshie Glendhu grey friar hand hath head heard heart heaven Heloise Hernando Herrman honor hope hour Jack king knew Koenigsberg lady Letty light lips live look Lord Lysimachus Meinheim mind mountains nature NELL GWYN never night o'er passed Pevensey Pierrot poor possession prince racter replied returned round Rubezahl scarcely scene seemed smile soon sorrow soul spirit Stadtholder stood sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought Verstegan voice Wahabees whilst wild words wretched young youth
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Сторінка 57 - Peace, peace ! he is not dead, he doth not sleep ! He hath awakened from the dream of life. 'Tis we who, lost in stormy visions, keep With phantoms an unprofitable strife, And in mad trance strike with our spirit's knife Invulnerable nothings. We decay Like corpses in a charnel ; fear and grief Convulse us and consume us day by day, And cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay. He has outsoared the shadow of our night...
Сторінка 192 - ... but the dove found no rest for the sole of her foot, and she returned unto him into the ark...
Сторінка 271 - The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains. — Beautiful ! I linger yet with Nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man; and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn'd the language of another world.
Сторінка 113 - That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days : So full of dismal terror was the time.
Сторінка 129 - Oh! laughingly My little brothers round the warm hearth crowd, Our home-fire blazes broad, and bright, and high, And the roof rings with voices light and loud: Spare me awhile! raise up my drooping brow! I am content to die — but, oh! not now!
Сторінка 242 - OH ! beautiful thou art, Thou sculpture-like and stately River-Queen ! Crowning the depths, as with the light serene Of a pure heart. Bright lily of the wave ! Rising in fearless grace with every swell, Thou seem'st as if a spirit meekly brave Dwelt in thy cell...
Сторінка 181 - And whereas the Laws of England are the birthright of the people thereof, and all the Kings and Queens, who shall ascend the Throne of this realm, ought to administer the Government of the same according to the said laws, and all their officers and ministers ought to serve them respectively according to the same...
Сторінка 129 - Summer is gone ; and autumn's soberer hues Tint the ripe fruits, and gild the waving corn ; The huntsman swift the flying game pursues, Shouts the halloo ! and winds his eager horn. " Spare me awhile, to wander forth and gaze On the broad meadows, and the quiet stream, To watch in silence while the evening rays Slant through the fading trees with ruddy gleam ! Cooler the breezes play around my brow ; I am content to die, — but oh ! not now...
Сторінка 222 - He hung his head ; each nobler aim And hope and feeling, which had slept From boyhood's hour, that instant came Fresh o'er him, and he wept — he wept ! Blest tears of soul-felt penitence ! In whose benign, redeeming flow Is felt the first, the only sense Of guiltless joy that guilt can know.
Сторінка 236 - The hoary fool, who many days Has struggled with continued sorrow, Renews his hope, and blindly lays The desperate bet upon to-morrow. To-morrow comes ; 'tis noon, 'tis night ; This day like all the former flies : Yet on he runs, to seek delight To-morrow, till to-night he dies.