طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
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الصفحة 322 - In his hand are all the corners of the earth ; and the strength of the hills is his also. The sea is his, and he made it; and his hands prepared the dry land. O come, let us worship and fall down, and kneel before the Lord our Maker.
الصفحة 402 - MAN, that is born of a woman, hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay.
الصفحة 322 - O come, let us sing unto the Lord ; let us make a joyful noise to the Rock of our salvation. Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving, and make a joyful noise unto Him with Psalms.
الصفحة 417 - 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. 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 322 - O come, let us worship and fall down, and kneel before the Lord our Maker. For he is the Lord our God, and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand.
الصفحة 128 - Hark ! hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings. And Phoebus 'gins arise. His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies ; And winking Mary-buds begin to ope their golden eyes ; With everything that pretty is — My lady sweet, arise : Arise, arise.
الصفحة 254 - Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils. . . . Let no such man be trusted.
الصفحة 365 - ... such a crowd of ladies and gentlemen were assembled together as became very formidable and terrific to each other, particularly the female part of the expectants ; for some of them, being in full dress, and every instant more and more incommoded and alarmed by the violence of those who pressed forward in order to get near the door, screamed, others fainted...
الصفحة 125 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.