Studies in Literature: Some Words about Chaucer, and Other Essays

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B. Herder, 1899 - 130 من الصفحات
 

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الصفحة 97 - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears ; and sometime voices, That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches Ready to drop upon me ; that, when I wak'd, I cried to dream again.
الصفحة 60 - One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake.
الصفحة 96 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
الصفحة 96 - In me. thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west ; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
الصفحة 90 - Which I wish to remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar, Which the same I would rise to explain.
الصفحة 97 - This music crept by me upon the waters; Allaying both their fury, and my passion, With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it, Or it hath drawn me rather: — But 'tis gone.
الصفحة 88 - TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days...
الصفحة 90 - Till at last he put down a right bower, Which the same Nye had dealt unto me. Then I looked up at Nye, And he gazed upon me; And he rose with a sigh, And said, 'Can this be? We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor,' And he went for that heathen Chinee.
الصفحة 62 - You have refused him the masters of human thought, who would in some sense have educated him, because of their incidental corruption ; you have shut up from him those whose thoughts strike home to our hearts, whose words are proverbs, whose names are indigenous to all the world...
الصفحة 105 - bides with thee as the Jebusite, That, maugre all God's promises could do, The chosen People never conquer'd quite; Who therefore lived with them, And that by formal truce and as of right, In metropolitan Jerusalem. For which false fealty Thou needs must, for a season, lie In the grave's arms, foul and unshriven, Albeit, in Heaven, Thy crimson-throbbing Glow Into its old abode aye pants to go, And does with envy see Enoch, Elijah, and the Lady, she Who left the roses in her body's lieu.

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