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الغلاف الأمامي
Christian Herald, 1897 - 318 من الصفحات
 

ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة

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الصفحة 287 - Sleep soft, beloved!" we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep. But never doleful dream again Shall break the happy slumber when He giveth His beloved, sleep.
الصفحة 18 - The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory, Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
الصفحة 19 - O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
الصفحة 293 - And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war, To fight for his own holy name, and Henry of Navarre.
الصفحة 298 - Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest l thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more: Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
الصفحة 120 - There is a day of sunny rest For every dark and troubled night And grief may bide an evening guest, But joy shall come with early light.
الصفحة 240 - The nation which indulges towards another an habitual hatred or an habitual fondness is in some degree a slave. It is a slave to its animosity or to its affection, either of which is sufficient to lead it astray from its duty and its interest.
الصفحة 30 - Nell," on English meadows Wandered and lost their way. And so in mountain solitudes— o'ertaken As by some spell divine — Their cares dropped from them like the needles shaken From out the gusty pine. Lost is that camp, and wasted all its fire: And he who wrought that spell? — Ah, towering pine and stately Kentish spire, Ye have one tale to tell!
الصفحة 1 - Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue : but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines.
الصفحة 219 - Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire after it — they cannot reach it.

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