The Bookworm: An Illustrated Treasury of Old-time Literature, المجلد 5

الغلاف الأمامي
Elliot Stock, 1892

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الصفحة 47 - Therefore rejoice ye heavens, and ye that dwell in them. Woe to the Inhabiters of the earth and of the sea! for the devil is come down unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time.
الصفحة 364 - Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale, Yet will I fear none ill ; For thou art with me ; and thy rod And staff me comfort still.
الصفحة 35 - Coldly thy rosy shadows bathe me, cold Are all thy lights, and cold my wrinkled feet Upon thy glimmering thresholds, when the steam Floats up from those dim fields about the homes Of happy men that have the power to die, 70 And grassy barrows of the happier dead.
الصفحة 23 - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds ; Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
الصفحة 303 - The splendours of the firmament of time May be eclipsed, but are extinguished not ; Like stars to their appointed height they climb And death is a low mist which cannot blot The brightness it may veil. When lofty thought Lifts a young heart above its mortal lair, And love and life contend in it, for what Shall be its earthly doom, the dead live there...
الصفحة 256 - I know they are as lively and as vigorously productive as those fabulous dragon's teeth ; and, being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book. Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image ; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself; kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
الصفحة 367 - Needy Knife-grinder! whither are you going? Rough is the road, your Wheel is out of order — Bleak blows the blast; — your hat has got a hole in't, So have your breeches! 'Weary Knife-grinder! little think the proud ones, Who in their coaches roll along the turnpikeroad, what hard work 'tis crying all day "Knives and "Scissors to grind O!
الصفحة 335 - Bill is good for this purpose, as far as it goes; but it goes a very little way; and we much doubt if it will operate as any sort of abridgment to the power of Magistrates in granting relief.
الصفحة 279 - THE spring when the green gits back in the trees, And the sun comes out and stays, And your boots pull on with a good tight squeeze, And you think of your barefoot days; When you ort to work and you want to not, And you and yer wife agrees It's time to spade up the garden lot — When the green gits back...

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