Who is he? By the marquis of ****.

الغلاف الأمامي
1879

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الصفحة 273 - The world recedes; it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes; my ears With sounds seraphic ring! Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy victory? O Death! where is thy sting?
الصفحة 337 - The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow ; She draws her favours to the lowest ebb : Her tides have equal times to come and go ; Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web : No joy so great but runneth to an end, No hap so hard but may in fine amend.
الصفحة 314 - This world is all a fleeting show For man's illusion given ; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow, — There's nothing true but Heaven...
الصفحة 136 - Per me si va nella città dolente; per me si va nell' eterno dolore; per me si va tra la perduta gente.
الصفحة 202 - O'er a' the ills o' life victorious! But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white — then melts for ever; Or like the borealis race That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm. Nae man can tether time or tide; The hour approaches Tam maun ride; That hour, o...
الصفحة 103 - So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear, Farewell remorse : all good to me is lost ; Evil, be thou my good : by thee at least Divided empire with heaven's King I hold, By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign ; As man ere long and this new world shall know.
الصفحة 202 - But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, its bloom is shed ! Or like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white — then melts for ever ; Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place : Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm. Nae man can tether time or tide ; The hour approaches Tam maun ride ; That hour, o...
الصفحة 249 - The parent tree will mourn its shade, The winds bewail the leafless tree, — But none shall breathe a sigh for me...
الصفحة 344 - In every stream his bounty flows, Diffusing joy and wealth; In every breeze his spirit blows, — The breath of life and health.
الصفحة 76 - twixt Now and Then ! This breathing house not built with hands, This body that does me grievous wrong, O'er aery cliffs and glittering sands, How lightly then it flashed along : — Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore.

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