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Сторінка 177 - What song the Syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women, though puzzling questions, are not beyond all conjecture.
Сторінка 567 - Mammon, the least erected Spirit that fell From Heaven; for even in Heaven his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold, Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed In vision beatific.
Сторінка 507 - In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife!
Сторінка 644 - The soldiers' revels in the midst of pillage ; The wail of famine in beleaguered towns ; The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder, The rattling musketry, the clashing blade ; And ever and anon, in tones of thunder, The diapason of the cannonade.
Сторінка 269 - Yet should some neighbour feel a pain Just in the parts where I complain, How many a message would he send ? What hearty prayers that I should mend?
Сторінка 246 - By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard, Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers, Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond.
Сторінка 563 - I am convinced, by the way, that he has no ear for poetical numbers, or that it was stopped by prejudice against the harmony of Milton's. Was there ever anything so delightful as the music of the Paradise Lost ? It is like that of a fine organ ; has the fullest and the deepest tones of majesty, with all the softness and elegance of the Dorian flute ; variety without end, and never equalled, unless perhaps by Virgil.
Сторінка 569 - A pillar of state : deep on his front engraven Deliberation sat and public care ; And princely counsel in his face yet shone, Majestic though in ruin : sage he stood, With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies ; his look Drew audience and attention still as night Or summer's noontide air...