Masterpieces of the World's Best Literature, Količina 5Jeannette Leonard Gilder Current Literature Publishing Company, 1905 |
Iz vsebine knjige
Zadetki 1–5 od 36
Stran 8
... played out . And me and Isrul Parr nt off for some wood to a sheep fold That he said was somewhar thar . found it at last , and a little shed Where they shut up the lambs at night . looked in , and seen them huddled thar , So warm and ...
... played out . And me and Isrul Parr nt off for some wood to a sheep fold That he said was somewhar thar . found it at last , and a little shed Where they shut up the lambs at night . looked in , and seen them huddled thar , So warm and ...
Stran 10
... play ; eir lofty deeds and daring high end with the notes of victory . nd waving arms , and banners bright , e glancing in the mellow light : ey're lost , —and gone - the moon is past , e wood's dark shade is o'er them cast ; d fainter ...
... play ; eir lofty deeds and daring high end with the notes of victory . nd waving arms , and banners bright , e glancing in the mellow light : ey're lost , —and gone - the moon is past , e wood's dark shade is o'er them cast ; d fainter ...
Stran 12
... Played the ruddy - golden sun . utes were ringing , youths were singing , Swelled my heart with feelings strange ; Bluer grew the heaven above us , Wider grew the spirit's range . ' airy - like beside us flitted Rock and ruin , wood and ...
... Played the ruddy - golden sun . utes were ringing , youths were singing , Swelled my heart with feelings strange ; Bluer grew the heaven above us , Wider grew the spirit's range . ' airy - like beside us flitted Rock and ruin , wood and ...
Stran 43
... play all the of your sensibilities in semitones , -touching xed nerve - pulps as a pianist strikes the keys instrument . I am satisfied that there are as nasters of this nerve - playing as Vieuxtemps berg in their lines of performance ...
... play all the of your sensibilities in semitones , -touching xed nerve - pulps as a pianist strikes the keys instrument . I am satisfied that there are as nasters of this nerve - playing as Vieuxtemps berg in their lines of performance ...
Stran 79
... played . And there's the island in est corner ; you'll know that well enough ' , when there's island fagging . I say , it's ld , lets have a run across , " and away went m close behind him . East was evidently is best foot foremost ...
... played . And there's the island in est corner ; you'll know that well enough ' , when there's island fagging . I say , it's ld , lets have a run across , " and away went m close behind him . East was evidently is best foot foremost ...
Druge izdaje - Prikaži vse
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
ball beauty bells bosom called Caudle charm Clopin cold cubits dear death door DOUGLAS WILLIAM JERROLD East eyes Falstaff feel feet fire Fort Christina give goal grass grave Gringoire hall hand happy Harris head hear heard heart heaven Heinrich Heine Helmer Jean Ingelow John Keats keep kick king lady Libya living look lord lullaby mind Moorish morning nature never night Nora o'er old Brooke once passed play players-up poet Pontarlier rain RICHARD JEFFERIES round Samuel Johnson school-house scrummage seemed Shakespeare side sleep song soul sweet talk tell thee there's things Thomas Hood Thomas Lucy thou thought Torvald tower town trees Tunis umbrella voice wall Washington Irving wave wife wind young
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 303 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, — While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft ; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Stran 22 - Gentlemen may cry peace, peace, but there is no peace. The war is actually begun. The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms. Our brethren are already in the field. Why stand we here idle ? What is it that gentlemen wish ? What would they have ? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery ? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!
Stran 298 - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
Stran 36 - AY, TEAR her tattered ensign down ! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky ; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar ; The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below.
Stran 299 - The weariness, the fever, and the fret, Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs, Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Stran 300 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream ? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
Stran 298 - Ode to a Nightingale MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thy happiness...
Stran 68 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword. His truth is marching on.
Stran 286 - Is not a Patron, my Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help...
Stran 271 - In the writings of other poets a character is too often an individual ; in those of Shakespeare it is commonly a species.