Mnenja - Napišite recenzijo
Na običajnih mestih nismo našli nobenih recenzij.
Druge izdaje - Prikaži vse
arms Arthur beauty blow body breath BROWNING Camelot Charles clear comes Company dark David dead deep Dickens dominant earth Enter expression eyes face fair fall Falstaff father fields follow give gone hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Heep hold hope hour inflection John keep King Lady land leaves light live look Lord mental Micawber mind moral mother Moya nature never night once pass PEER Philistine play pray rising rode roll round sail Shallow Shalott ship side singing soul sound speak stand star stood stop taken tell thee thing thou thought thro true truth turn unto Viola vital voice wave whole wind young
Stran 43 - A hurry of hoofs in a village street, A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet. That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light, The fate of a nation was riding that night; And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
Stran 62 - Unto which promise our twelve tribes, instantly serving God day and night, hope to come. For which hope's sake, king Agrippa, I am accused of the Jews. 8 Why should it be thought a thing incredible with you, that God should raise the dead?
Stran 78 - Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind the Gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghost of shores, Before him only shoreless seas. The good mate said: "Now must we pray, For lo! the very stars are gone. Brave Admiral, speak, what shall I say?
Stran 77 - All are needed by each one; Nothing is fair or good alone. I thought the sparrow's note from heaven, Singing at dawn on the alder bough; I brought him home, in his nest, at even; He sings the song, but it cheers not now.
Stran 19 - The hills Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,— the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods— rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,— Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.
Stran 73 - To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men, — that is genius.
Stran 112 - PART II There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colors gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott.