The casquet of literature, a selection in poetry and prose, ed. with notes by C. Gibbon, المجلدات 1-21873 |
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الصفحة 5
... tears which your deeds have caused , when death hath broken the strong man's spear , and overtaken the speed of his war - horse ? " " What remains ? " cried Ivanhoe ; " Glory , maiden , glory ! which gilds our sepulchre and embalms our ...
... tears which your deeds have caused , when death hath broken the strong man's spear , and overtaken the speed of his war - horse ? " " What remains ? " cried Ivanhoe ; " Glory , maiden , glory ! which gilds our sepulchre and embalms our ...
الصفحة 11
... tears fall fast , and my undisciplined heart is chastened heavily - heavily . Ever I sit down by the fire , thinking with a blind remorse of all those secret feelings I have nourished since my marriage . I think of every little trifle ...
... tears fall fast , and my undisciplined heart is chastened heavily - heavily . Ever I sit down by the fire , thinking with a blind remorse of all those secret feelings I have nourished since my marriage . I think of every little trifle ...
الصفحة 8
... with all those many hours when you are so industrious . May I hold the pens ? " The remembrance of her pretty joy when I said Yes , brings tears into my eyes . The next I must pause yet once again . Oh , my 8 THE CHILD - WIFE .
... with all those many hours when you are so industrious . May I hold the pens ? " The remembrance of her pretty joy when I said Yes , brings tears into my eyes . The next I must pause yet once again . Oh , my 8 THE CHILD - WIFE .
الصفحة 10
... tears and to reply , " Oh , Dora , love , as fit as I to be a husband ! " " I don't know , " with the old shake of her curls . " Perhaps ! But , if I had been more fit to be married , I might have made you more so , too . Besides , you ...
... tears and to reply , " Oh , Dora , love , as fit as I to be a husband ! " " I don't know , " with the old shake of her curls . " Perhaps ! But , if I had been more fit to be married , I might have made you more so , too . Besides , you ...
الصفحة 11
... tears , that awful mute appeal to me , that solemn hand upraised towards heaven ! Agnes ? " 66 It is over . Darkness comes before my eyes ; to Agnes . When you go down stairs tell Agnes so , and send her up to me ; and while I speak to ...
... tears , that awful mute appeal to me , that solemn hand upraised towards heaven ! Agnes ? " 66 It is over . Darkness comes before my eyes ; to Agnes . When you go down stairs tell Agnes so , and send her up to me ; and while I speak to ...
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طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Andrew Waddell appeared arms Athenæum Club beautiful began bright called Cardo CASQUET child Cleora cried dark dear death delight door Dora dream earth eyes face fair father fear feel Flashman flowers followed Frederick Hume gave George Withers girl give hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven honour hope hour Hume husband Ivanhoe John Brown knew lady leave Leosthenes light living London look Lord Byron Luddites marriage Masaniello Mellor mind morning mother never night o'er once poet poor replied Richard Sale Rip Van Winkle Romelli round seemed silent sleep smile soon soul spirit stood Surbiton sure sweet tears tell Thackeray thee things THOMAS CAMPBELL thou thought tion told took turned voice wife wind woman wonder word young youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 41 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
الصفحة 75 - AT midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power ; In dreams, through camp and court, he bore The trophies of a conqueror ; In dreams his song of triumph heard. Then wore his monarch's signet ring, Then pressed that monarch's throne — a King ; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird.
الصفحة 41 - Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
الصفحة 358 - His dews drop mutely on the hill, His cloud above it saileth still, Though on its slope men sow and reap : More softly than the dew is shed, Or cloud is floated overhead, He giveth His beloved — sleep.
الصفحة 6 - Leave to the nightingale her shady wood ; A privacy of glorious light is thine; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine; Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home...
الصفحة 41 - Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod.
الصفحة 15 - How sleep the brave who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung ; By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; And freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there ! ODE TO MERCY.
الصفحة 41 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But in embalmed darkness guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild...
الصفحة 261 - O'er each fair sleeping brow ; She had each folded flower in sight — Where are those dreamers now ? One, 'midst the forests of the West, By a dark stream is laid — The Indian knows his place of rest, Far in the cedar shade.
الصفحة 65 - Rip recollected. The very character of the people seemed changed. There was a busy, bustling, disputatious tone about it, instead of the accustomed phlegm and drowsy tranquillity.