The ProfessorSmith, Elder, and Company, 1889 - 432 стор. |
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The Professor Charlotte 1816-1855 Brontë,Emily 1818-1848 Brontë,Anne 1820-1849 Brontë Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2022 |
The Professor Charlotte 1816-1855 Brontë,Emily 1818-1848 Brontë,Anne 1820-1849 Brontë Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2022 |
Загальні терміни та фрази
Anne Brontë answer asked Belgian Belgium bliss breast bright brodequin brow Brussels calm Charlotte Brontë cheerful close clouds cold counting-house Crimsworth dark death directress door dream England English estrade eyes face fear feel felt fire Flemish flowers Frances French gaze give glance gleam glow grief Grovetown hand hear heard heart heaven Henri hope hour Hunsden hypochondria knew laugh leave lessons light lips live looked Madame Pelet Mademoiselle maîtresse Mdlle mind mine-a Monsieur never night o'er once pain passed PATRICK BRONTË physiognomy pleasure pupils quiet rest Reuter rose round scarcely Seacombe seemed shade shine silent smile soft soon soul speak spirit step stirred stood strong sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou thought took turned Tynedale Vandenhuten voice walk watch weary wild wish wonder word young Zoraïde
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 361 - No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere: I see Heaven's glories shine, And faith shines equal, arming me from fear. O God within my breast, Almighty, ever-present Deity! Life— that in me has rest, As I— Undying Life— have power in Thee! Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts: unutterably vain; Worthless as withered weeds, Or idlest froth amid the boundless main, To waken doubt in one Holding so fast by...
Сторінка 133 - LORD, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is ; that I may know how frail I am.
Сторінка 294 - Cold in the earth —and the deep snow piled above thee, Far, far, removed, cold in the dreary grave! Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee, Severed at last by Time's all-severing wave? Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover Over the mountains, on that northern shore.
Сторінка 301 - A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty. "He comes with western winds, with evening's wandering airs, With that clear dusk of heaven that brings the thickest stars. Winds take a pensive tone, and stars a tender fire, And visions rise, and change, that kill me with desire.
Сторінка 301 - But first a hush of peace, a soundless calm descends; The struggle of distress and fierce impatience ends; Mute music soothes my breast — unuttered harmony That I could never dream till earth was lost to me. Then dawns the Invisible, the unseen its truth reveals; My outward sense is gone, my inward essence feels — Its wings are almost free, its home, its harbour found; Measuring the gulf it stoops and dares the final bound!
Сторінка 361 - ... in paths of high morality, And not among the half-distinguished faces, The clouded forms of long-past history. I'll walk where my own nature would be leading : It vexes me to choose another guide : Where the grey flocks in ferny glens are feeding ; Where the wild wind blows on the mountain side.
Сторінка 375 - I hoped that with the brave and strong My portioned task might lie ; To toil amid the busy throng, With purpose pure and high. " But God has fixed another part, And He has fixed it well: I said so with my bleeding heart, When first the anguish fell.
Сторінка 352 - Yes I could swear that glorious wind Has swept the world aside Has dashed its memory from thy mind Like foam-bells from the tide...
Сторінка 313 - And if I pray, the only prayer That moves my lips for me Is, " Leave the heart that now I bear, And give me liberty ! " Yes, as my swift days near their goal, Tis all that I implore ; In life and death, a chainless soul, With courage to endure.
Сторінка 304 - O mortal ! mortal ! let them die ;' Let time and tears destroy, That we may overflow the sky With universal joy ! ' Let grief distract the sufferer's breast, And night obscure his way ; They hasten him to endless rest, And everlasting day. ' To thee the world is like a tomb, A desert's naked shore ; To us, in unimagined bloom, It brightens more and more ! ' And, could we lift the veil, and give One brief glimpse to thine eye, Thou wouldst rejoice for those that live, Because they live to die.