The Port folio, by Oliver Oldschool, Količina 1

Sprednja platnica
1809
 

Vsebina

Del 9
101
Del 10
129
Del 11
189
Del 12
233
Del 13
244
Del 14
258
Del 15
267
Del 16
275
Del 17
285
Del 26
402
Del 27
408
Del 28
455
Del 29
461
Del 30
511
Del 31
513
Del 32
527
Del 33
531

Druge izdaje - Prikaži vse

Pogosti izrazi in povedi

Priljubljeni odlomki

Stran 112 - The bell strikes one. We take no note of time, But from its loss. To give it then a tongue, Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the knell of my departed hours: Where are they?
Stran 509 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty, thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then ! Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Stran 264 - My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man, that function Is smother'd in surmise : and nothing is, But what is not.
Stran 138 - For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
Stran 238 - To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue) A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; Domestic fury and fierce civil strife Shall cumber all the parts of Italy...
Stran 379 - My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone ; The flowers appear on the earth ; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land ; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Stran 264 - Cannot be ill, cannot be good : — if ill, Why hath it given me earnest of success, Commencing in a truth ? I am thane of Cawdor : If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature...
Stran 256 - Nor will I quit thy shore A second time; for still I seem To love thee more and more.
Stran 106 - Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady, Know of your love ? Oth.
Stran 113 - A worm ! a God ! — I tremble at myself, And in myself am lost. At home -a, stranger, Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast, And wondering at her own. How Reason reels ! O what a miracle to man is man ! Triumphantly distress'd ! what joy!

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