The Universal Anthology: A Collection of the Best Literature, Ancient, Mediaeval and Modern, with Biographical and Explanatory Notes, Том 24Richard Garnett, Léon Vallée, Alois Brandl Clarke Company, Limited, 1899 |
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Страница 28
... standing steadily , never for a mo- ment losing sight of his antagonist ; and the latter seemed , like a bird before a snake , to be overwhelmed by a well - nigh magi- cal power . He was compelled to endure that homicidal gaze ; he met ...
... standing steadily , never for a mo- ment losing sight of his antagonist ; and the latter seemed , like a bird before a snake , to be overwhelmed by a well - nigh magi- cal power . He was compelled to endure that homicidal gaze ; he met ...
Страница 33
... standing in your closet with their faces to the wall for want of room . One picture or another , what difference does it make ? " “ Und vy ? " " He is so cunning . It is his illness , for he is a lamb when he is well . He is capable of ...
... standing in your closet with their faces to the wall for want of room . One picture or another , what difference does it make ? " “ Und vy ? " " He is so cunning . It is his illness , for he is a lamb when he is well . He is capable of ...
Страница 39
... stand me out ? " said she . word , do you know where you ought to be sent ? - To the asylum at Charenton . You see men " Elie Magus , Rémonencq , and " " " " " Oh ! as for Rémonencq , you may have seen him , for he came up to tell me ...
... stand me out ? " said she . word , do you know where you ought to be sent ? - To the asylum at Charenton . You see men " Elie Magus , Rémonencq , and " " " " " Oh ! as for Rémonencq , you may have seen him , for he came up to tell me ...
Страница 45
... supreme degree , the executant stands beside the poet , as it were ; he is to the composer as the actor is to the writer of plays , a - divinely inspired interpreter of things divine . But that night COUSIN PONS . 45.
... supreme degree , the executant stands beside the poet , as it were ; he is to the composer as the actor is to the writer of plays , a - divinely inspired interpreter of things divine . But that night COUSIN PONS . 45.
Страница 50
... standing erect , his tall figure gain- ing in height by the full height of his indignation . " You are a monster ! You dried to kill mein goot Bons ! He is right . You are worse than a monster , you are a lost soul ! " La Cibot saw the ...
... standing erect , his tall figure gain- ing in height by the full height of his indignation . " You are a monster ! You dried to kill mein goot Bons ! He is right . You are worse than a monster , you are a lost soul ! " La Cibot saw the ...
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Adrienne ALFRED TENNYSON answered Arthur Dimmesdale asked bandolining beautiful bells Ben Bolt better breath canon Chateau d'If child Cibot Cleopatra colonel Consuelo cried curate Dantes dark dead dear death Djalma door Dorcas dream Ellen eyes face fancy father fear feeling felt Fraisier gentleman give hand happiness head hear heard heart Heaven Hester Hester Prynne hope hour Jane Jefferson Brick Kardouon Lady Hester Stanhope laugh leave light lips listen live look Mademoiselle de Cardoville Magus Martin Meïamoun mind missis Mugby Junction never night once passed Pons poor Rawdon replied Reuben scarlet letter Schaunard Schmucke seemed smile Sniff soul stood sure sweet tears tell thee THEOPHILE GAUTIER things THOMAS HOOD thou thought tree trembling turned voice wife wish woman words Xailoun young lord
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Страница 364 - OH yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood; That nothing walks with aimless feet; That not one life shall be destroy'd, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
Страница 129 - art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore, — Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" Quoth the Raven,
Страница 134 - During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher.
Страница 365 - but no. From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries, " A thousand types are gone: I care for nothing, all shall go. " Thou makest thine appeal to me: I bring to life, I bring to death: The spirit does but mean the breath: I know no more.
Страница 219 - Death has left on her Only the beautiful. "Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family — Wipe those poor lips of hers Oozing so clammily, "Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home ? "Who was her father? Who was her mother? Had she a sister? Had she a brother? Or was there a dearer one StiH, and a nearer one Yet, than all other?
Страница 223 - Work — work — work, In the dull December light; And work — work — work, When the weather is warm and bright, While underneath the eaves The brooding swallows cling, As if to show me their sunny backs And twit me with the spring.
Страница 181 - And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
Страница 218 - Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing,— Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; ' Not of the stains of her— All that remains of her Now, is pure womanly.
Страница 394 - Let us be patient! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise. But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise.
Страница 142 - Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow (This — all this — was in the olden Time long ago), And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A winged odor went away. Wanderers in that happy valley Through two luminous windows saw Spirits moving musically, To a lute's well-tuned law, Round about a throne where, sitting, Porphyrogene, In state his glory well befitting, The ruler of the realm was seen. And all with pearl...