Macmillan's Magazine, Količina 38Macmillan and Company, 1878 |
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Zadetki 1–5 od 92
Stran 9
... sense of mental tyranny over him to drive him to such a pass ! How should he see him ? He felt that he must tremble before his own son . As for the poor mother , Amos doubted whether he could ever tell her to what runious work she had ...
... sense of mental tyranny over him to drive him to such a pass ! How should he see him ? He felt that he must tremble before his own son . As for the poor mother , Amos doubted whether he could ever tell her to what runious work she had ...
Stran 10
... sense , however much anguish it might be causing him as a thing between him- self and his God . No : the eyes that read his face as they had never read it before , saw that the trouble now most active in him was at the anger of Dora and ...
... sense , however much anguish it might be causing him as a thing between him- self and his God . No : the eyes that read his face as they had never read it before , saw that the trouble now most active in him was at the anger of Dora and ...
Stran 11
... sense of reality , in Sebastian's position , he had not till then been able to feel . When he reached home , he wondered helplessly how he should mention these things . The first news he heard was that Sebastian had already gone to ...
... sense of reality , in Sebastian's position , he had not till then been able to feel . When he reached home , he wondered helplessly how he should mention these things . The first news he heard was that Sebastian had already gone to ...
Stran 13
... senses but that the pre- bendary's judgment admitted of no question with her . All her hard strength broke down , and she fell on her knees by Amos , and wept bitterly , bewailing her own foolish fit of hope at Sebastian's birth , and ...
... senses but that the pre- bendary's judgment admitted of no question with her . All her hard strength broke down , and she fell on her knees by Amos , and wept bitterly , bewailing her own foolish fit of hope at Sebastian's birth , and ...
Stran 20
... sense of the word , there are few or none . Now and then , a writer , dis- tinguished in some other path , a poet , say , a politician , or a scientist , will sit down and write a tale as a means of popularising some favourite theory ...
... sense of the word , there are few or none . Now and then , a writer , dis- tinguished in some other path , a poet , say , a politician , or a scientist , will sit down and write a tale as a means of popularising some favourite theory ...
Druge izdaje - Prikaži vse
Macmillan's Magazine, Količina 58 David Masson,George Grove,John Morley,Mowbray Morris Celotni ogled - 1888 |
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
Alma Amos Anstice army beauty better Bohemian called century Chablais Christabel Christian Church Constance criticism Cyprus Daoud Pasha dear Dowdeswell Emmie England English eyes face fact fancy feel fetish forest Freemasonry French friends German give Greek hand heart Hegel House Huez idea idyllic imagination interest island Kant Katherine kind labour Lady Larnaca Lebanon less literature lives lodges look mamma Maronites Masons matter means ment mind mother nation nature negro never officers once Pasha passed Peninsular war perhaps philosophy poems poetic poetry poets prebendary present prose Provençal regiment religion religious savage Sebastian seems soldiers sort soul speak spirit story Syria Taine talk tell things Thonon thought tion told Tom Winter troubadours turn whole words worship writing Wynyard young
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 206 - Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven image, nor the likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the water under the earth. Thou shalt not bow down to them, nor worship them...
Stran 372 - THE YELLOW VIOLET When beechen buds begin to swell, And woods the blue-bird's warble know, The yellow violet's modest bell Peeps from the last year's leaves below. Ere russet fields their green resume, Sweet flower, I love, in forest bare, To meet thee, when thy faint perfume Alone is in the virgin air. Of all her train, the hands of Spring First plant thee in the watery mould, 10 And I have seen thee blossoming Beside the snow-bank's edges cold.
Stran 374 - Thou unrelenting Past! Strong are the barriers round thy dark domain, And fetters, sure and fast, Hold all that enter thy unbreathing reign. Far in thy realm withdrawn Old empires sit in sullenness and gloom, And glorious ages gone Lie deep within the shadow of thy womb. Childhood, with all its mirth, Youth, Manhood, Age that draws us to the ground, And last, Man's Life on earth, Glide to thy dim dominions, and are bound.
Stran 253 - Sure something holy lodges in that breast, And with these raptures moves the vocal air To testify his hidden residence. How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of Silence, through the empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of Darkness till it smiled.
Stran 109 - In this poem there is no nature, for there is no truth; there is no art, for there is nothing new. Its form is that of a pastoral, easy, vulgar, and therefore disgusting: whatever images it can supply, are long ago exhausted; and its inherent improbability always forces dissatisfaction on the mind.
Stran 252 - For the poet is a light and winged and holy thing, and there is no invention in him until he has been inspired and is out of his senses, and the mind is no longer in him: when he has not attained to this state, he is powerless and is unable to utter his oracles.
Stran 34 - I sought for merit wherever it was to be found. It is my boast, that I was the first minister who looked for it, and found it, in the mountains of the North. I called it forth, and drew into your service a hardy and intrepid race of men — men, who, when left by your jealousy, became a prey to the artifices of your enemies, and had gone nigh to have overturned the state in the war before the last.
Stran 218 - She never found fault with you, never implied Your wrong by her right; and yet men at her side Grew nobler, girls purer, as through the whole town The children were gladder that pulled at her gown — My Kate.
Stran 109 - It is not to be considered as the effusion of real passion ; for passion runs not after remote allusions and obscure opinions. Passion plucks no berries from the myrtle and ivy, nor calls upon Arethuse and Mincius, nor tells of rough satyrs and fauns with cloven heel.
Stran 447 - When her mother tends her before the laughing mirror, Tying up her laces, looping up her hair, Often she thinks, were this wild thing wedded, More love should I have, and much less care. When her mother tends her before the lighted mirror, Loosening her laces, combing down her curls, Often she thinks, were this wild thing wedded, I should miss but one for many boys and girls.