Essays in translation and other contributions, repr. from the 'Journ. of education', with editorial notes and comments1885 |
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Essays in Translation and Other Contributions, Repr. from the 'Journ. of ... Essays Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2015 |
Essays in Translation and Other Contributions, Repr. from the 'journ. of ... Essays Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2018 |
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Adramelech Aimons-nous arms autres blow brow c'est Cæsar Coppée COPPÉE'S d'Anthouard d'une dark E. A. Freeman earth eawr echo Emperor English equivalent esprits être extra prize EXTRACT eyes F. W. BOURDILLON fair fait Figaro French Gacé glorieuse golden age grand grossen hath heart homme honour infinies jamais jour Julius Cæsar king le bois noir le monde let us howd Lieb Lignerolles Lord Madame de Sablé Maire mihi Molière n'est night NOTES ON TRANSLATIONS Notes see Appendix novels o'er Pauvre Petrus Borel poet politique PRIZE TRANSLATION prize version qu'il qu'on qu'un rendered rien ring rose round Saint-Simon Shakespeare sing sleep song sonnet soul Spirit of Liberty sweet Tasso Tennyson thee THÉOPHILE GAUTIER thine thou thro tout le monde TRANSLATION BY MISS TRANSLATIONS OF PASSAGE version and Notes voice voit voulez-vous Wohl word
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Сторінка 72 - He led me through his gardens fair Where all his golden pleasures grow. With sweet May dews my wings were wet, And Phoebus fired my vocal rage; He caught me in his silken net, And shut me in his golden cage. He loves to sit and hear me sing, Then, laughing, sports and plays with me; Then stretches out my golden wing, And mocks my loss of liberty.
Сторінка 104 - For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Comes silent, flooding in, the main. And not by eastern windows only, When daylight comes, comes in the light; In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly, But westward, look, the land is bright.
Сторінка 112 - The storm has gone over me ; and I lie like one of those old oaks which the late hurricane has scattered about me. I am stripped of all my honours, I am torn up by the roots, and lie prostrate on the earth ! There, and prostrate there, I most unfeignedly recognize the Divine justice, and in some degree submit to it.
Сторінка 78 - Qu'affectent la plupart de vos gens à la mode ; Et je ne hais rien tant que les contorsions De tous ces grands faiseurs de protestations, Ces affables donneurs d'embrassades frivoles, Ces obligeants diseurs d'inutiles paroles, Qui de civilités avec tous font combat, Et traitent du même air l'honnête homme et le fat.
Сторінка 52 - GEH aus, mein Herz, und suche Freud* In dieser lieben Sommerzeit An deines Gottes Gaben ; Schau an der schönen Gärten Zier Und siehe, wie sie mir und dir Sich ausgeschmücket haben. Die Bäume stehen voller Laub, Das Erdreich decket seinen Staub Mit einem grünen Kleide ; Narzissus und die Tulipan, Die ziehen sich viel schöner an Als Salomonis Seide.
Сторінка 74 - Wohl endet Tod des Lebens Not, doch schauert Leben vor dem Tod. Das Leben sieht die dunkle Hand, den hellen Kelch nicht, den sie bot. So schauert vor der Lieb ein Herz, als wie von Untergang bedroht. Denn wo die Lieb erwachet, stirbt das Ich, der dunkele Despot.
Сторінка 106 - Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside. My soul into the boughs does glide; There, like a bird, it sits and sings, Then whets and combs its silver wings, And, till prepared for longer flight, Waves in its plumes the various light.
Сторінка 106 - In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When I lie within my bed, Sick in heart, and sick in head, And with doubts discomforted, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
Сторінка 111 - The Puritan hated bearbaiting, not because it gave pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure to the spectators.
Сторінка 110 - Oh, the little more, and how much it is! And the little less, and what worlds away!