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answered appeared arms asked Assyria beautiful become believe better brought called carried close coming course dark death door doubt English eyes face fact father feel four girl give given half hand head hear heard heart hour idea interest Jack keep kind king knew known lady leave less light living looked matter means mind Miss morning nature nearly never night once passed perhaps person Phyllis poor present question reached reason replied round seemed seen side soon speak standing story strange sure taken tell things thought tion told took turned voice walk whole wife wish woman young
Сторінка 48 - A lily of a day Is fairer far in May; Although it fall and die that night, It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see, And in short measures life may perfect be.
Сторінка 349 - And if aught else, great bards beside, In sage and solemn tunes have sung, Of tourneys and of trophies hung; Of forests, and enchantments drear, Where more is meant than meets the ear.
Сторінка 280 - The name of the LORD is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe.
Сторінка 187 - Midst others of less note came one frail form, A phantom among men, companionless As the last cloud of an expiring storm, Whose thunder is its knell.
Сторінка 24 - ... are two sides of one and the same phenomenon. Why should the phenomenon have two sides ? This is the very core of the difficulty. There are plenty of molecular motions which do not exhibit this two-sidedness. Does water think or feel when it runs into frost-ferns upon a window-pane ? If not, why should the molecular motion of the brain be yoked to this mysterious companion — consciousness?
Сторінка 250 - As in poetry, so in prose, he who can deal adequately with tragic elements is a greater artist and reaches a higher aim than the writer whose efforts never carry him above the mild walks of everyday life.
Сторінка 129 - TELL me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora the lovely Roman ? Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman? Where is Echo, beheld of no man, Only heard on river and mere, — She whose beauty was more than human? But where are the snows of yester-year?
Сторінка 130 - ... snows of yester-year? White Queen Blanche, like a queen of lilies, With a voice like any mermaiden, — Bertha Broadfoot, Beatrice, Alice, And Ermengarde the lady of Maine, — And that good Joan whom Englishmen At Rouen doomed and burned her there, — Mother of God, where are they then ? . . , But where are the snows of yester-year?