The Treasury of Literature and Art: a Selection from the Best WritersW.P. Nimmo, 1872 - 160 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 24
... happy , happy brook , Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look ; But with a sweet forgetting , They stay their crystal fretting , Never , never petting About the frozen time . Ah ! would ' twere so with many A gentle girl and ...
... happy , happy brook , Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look ; But with a sweet forgetting , They stay their crystal fretting , Never , never petting About the frozen time . Ah ! would ' twere so with many A gentle girl and ...
الصفحة 43
... loss , Created this new happy race of men To serve Him better : wise are all His ways . " So spake the false dissembler unperceived ; For neither man THE TREASURY OF LITERATURE AND ART . 43 SATAN'S SEARCH FOR THE EARTH, Milton,
... loss , Created this new happy race of men To serve Him better : wise are all His ways . " So spake the false dissembler unperceived ; For neither man THE TREASURY OF LITERATURE AND ART . 43 SATAN'S SEARCH FOR THE EARTH, Milton,
الصفحة 83
... happy be the woodbine bower , Nae nightly bogle make it eerie ; Nor ever sorrow stain the hour , The place and time I met my dearie ! Her head upon my throbbing breast , She , sinking , said , " I'm thine for ever ! " While mony a kiss ...
... happy be the woodbine bower , Nae nightly bogle make it eerie ; Nor ever sorrow stain the hour , The place and time I met my dearie ! Her head upon my throbbing breast , She , sinking , said , " I'm thine for ever ! " While mony a kiss ...
الصفحة 96
... happy was I then ! I loved Its very storms . Yes , I have often sat In my boat at night , when midway o'er the lake- The stars went out , and down the mountain - gorge The wind came roaring . I have sat and eyed The thunder breaking ...
... happy was I then ! I loved Its very storms . Yes , I have often sat In my boat at night , when midway o'er the lake- The stars went out , and down the mountain - gorge The wind came roaring . I have sat and eyed The thunder breaking ...
الصفحة 160
... happy with you . His griefs may return - not a hope may remain Of the few that have brightened his pathway of pain- But he ne'er will forget the short vision that threw Its enchantment around him while ling'ring with you ! And still on ...
... happy with you . His griefs may return - not a hope may remain Of the few that have brightened his pathway of pain- But he ne'er will forget the short vision that threw Its enchantment around him while ling'ring with you ! And still on ...
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
ABOU BEN ADHEM Adams appeared arms beheld beneath bride bridegroom Caliph cassock chamber cried dæmon dark death doctor dogs door doth dream Emilia and Julia enemy eyes farewell fate fear fell Ferdinand Frankenstein gallery gaze Giaour hall hand Harley hast hath heard heart heaven hollow hope hour hung Imoinde Isabella John Anderson Joseph Joseph Andrews journey knew lady LEIGH HUNT light look lost Manfred Maria Modern Prometheus Monimia ne'er never night Nouronihar o'er once Oroonoko passed perceived pockets poor postillion praise pre-Adamite pursued Rayland returned says seized Sicilian Romance sight silent sitting sledge sleep smile soon soul sound spirits staircase Stephen Evans stone stood Surinam tankard tears tell Tenterden terror thee things thou thought told took tower tree Tristram Shandy Vathek voice walk wild wind young
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 56 - Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
الصفحة 92 - I am a Jew: Hath not a Jew eyes ? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions ? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to t,he same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is ? If you prick us, do we not bleed ? if you tickle us, do we not laugh ? if you poison us, do we not die ? and if you wrong) us, shall we not revenge i if we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that.
الصفحة 75 - Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing," That thus they all shall meet in future days, There, ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear; While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere.
الصفحة 60 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
الصفحة 75 - Compared with this, how poor religion's pride, In all the pomp of method, and of art, When men display to congregations wide Devotion's every grace, except the heart!
الصفحة 119 - Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son, Wretch even then, life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gavest me, though unfelt, a kiss ; Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss ; Ah, that maternal smile, it answers yes...
الصفحة 27 - Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet! Gazing, with a timid glance, On the brooklet's swift advance, On the river's broad expanse ! Deep and still, that gliding stream Beautiful to thee must seem, As the river of a dream. Then why pause with indecision, When bright angels in thy vision Beckon thee to fields Elysian...
الصفحة 24 - In a drear-nighted December Too happy, happy Tree Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity : The north cannot undo them With a sleety whistle through them, Nor frozen thawings glue them From budding at the prime.
الصفحة 59 - MY JO. JOHN Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent ; Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent ; But now your brow is beld, John Your locks are like the snaw ; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi...
الصفحة 119 - Dupe of to-morrow even from a child. Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went, Till, all my stock of infant sorrow spent, I learned at last submission to my lot, But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot.