Famous Authors and the Best Literature of England and America ...: Together with Choice Selections from Their Writings ...William Wilfred Birdsall, Rufus Matthew Jones American Book & Bible House, 1897 - 544 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 53
... Turning again toward childish treble , pipes And whistles in his sound : Last scene of all , That ends this strange eventful history , Is second childishness , and mere oblivion : Sans teeth , sans eyes , sans taste , sans everything ...
... Turning again toward childish treble , pipes And whistles in his sound : Last scene of all , That ends this strange eventful history , Is second childishness , and mere oblivion : Sans teeth , sans eyes , sans taste , sans everything ...
الصفحة 84
... poetry is not English , but Scottish . Its rollicking fun , as in " Tam O'Shanter's Ride , " its touching sentiment , as in " On Turning up a Mouse's Nest with the Plough , " the truth and beauty of. 84 ROBERT BURNS .
... poetry is not English , but Scottish . Its rollicking fun , as in " Tam O'Shanter's Ride , " its touching sentiment , as in " On Turning up a Mouse's Nest with the Plough , " the truth and beauty of. 84 ROBERT BURNS .
الصفحة 104
... Turned from the bridegroom's door . He went like one that hath been stunned , And is of sense forlorn : A sadder and a wiser man He rose the morrow morn . HE fair breeze blew , the white foam flew , The furrow followed free ; We were ...
... Turned from the bridegroom's door . He went like one that hath been stunned , And is of sense forlorn : A sadder and a wiser man He rose the morrow morn . HE fair breeze blew , the white foam flew , The furrow followed free ; We were ...
الصفحة 124
... fancy feign'd On lips that are for others ; deep as love , Deep as first love , and wild as all regret ; O death in Life ! the days that are no more . I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight 124 ALFRED TENNYSON .
... fancy feign'd On lips that are for others ; deep as love , Deep as first love , and wild as all regret ; O death in Life ! the days that are no more . I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight 124 ALFRED TENNYSON .
الصفحة 126
... turned in my saddle and made its girths tight , Then shortened each stirrup , and set the pique right , Rebuckeled the check - strap , chained slacker the bit ; Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit . ' Twas moonset at starting ; but ...
... turned in my saddle and made its girths tight , Then shortened each stirrup , and set the pique right , Rebuckeled the check - strap , chained slacker the bit ; Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit . ' Twas moonset at starting ; but ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Adam Bede angels Armorel beauty bells Ben Jonson blessed breath Cæsar called Charles Dickens child corn-law dark dear death Deemster delight earth England English eyes face Faerie Queene fair father flowers George Eliot HALL CAINE hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hill honor hope human Ivanhoe king labor lady Lady of Shalott light literary literature live London look Lord master mind Miss Miss Bretherton never night noble novels o'er once passed poems poet poetry poor Poyser published Queen replied rose Roseveans round RUDYARD KIPLING Scene Shakespeare sleep smile song sorrow soul speak spirit stood story sweet tears tell thee things thou thought truth verse voice weary Wee Willie Winkie Weller woman wonder word writings young youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 81 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay: Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed can never be supplied.
الصفحة 97 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean - roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin - his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own.
الصفحة 78 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
الصفحة 114 - Hence in a season of calm weather, Though inland far we be, Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore...
الصفحة 55 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil, that men do, lives after them ; The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar.
الصفحة 53 - And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound.
الصفحة 54 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels trumpet-tongued against The deep damnation of his taking-off...
الصفحة 97 - Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed— in breeze, or gale, or storm — Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving, boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible...
الصفحة 303 - But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered — not a feather then he fluttered — Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before. On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.
الصفحة 51 - Love thyself last ; cherish those hearts that hate thee : Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.