Library of the World's Best Literature: Ancient and ModernCharles Dudley Warner International Society, 1897 |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 73 találatból.
3509. oldal
... head as if rooted to the ground . I stared at him full of terror , and was like a bird which a serpent has fascinated . He himself appeared very much embarrassed . He did not raise his eyes , again bowed 3510 repeatedly , drew nearer ...
... head as if rooted to the ground . I stared at him full of terror , and was like a bird which a serpent has fascinated . He himself appeared very much embarrassed . He did not raise his eyes , again bowed 3510 repeatedly , drew nearer ...
3510. oldal
... head . What was I to make of this singular proposition to sell my own shadow ? He must be mad , thought I ; and with an altered tone which was more assimilated to that of his own humility , I answered him thus : - >> " Ha ha ! good ...
... head . What was I to make of this singular proposition to sell my own shadow ? He must be mad , thought I ; and with an altered tone which was more assimilated to that of his own humility , I answered him thus : - >> " Ha ha ! good ...
3528. oldal
... head - tires laying by . Nausicaa , with the wrists of ivory , The liking stroke strook , singing first a song , As custom order'd , and amidst the throng Made such a shew , and so past all was seen , As when the chaste - born , arrow ...
... head - tires laying by . Nausicaa , with the wrists of ivory , The liking stroke strook , singing first a song , As custom order'd , and amidst the throng Made such a shew , and so past all was seen , As when the chaste - born , arrow ...
3529. oldal
... head out . Look how from his den A mountain lion looks , that , all embrued With drops of trees , and weatherbeaten - hued , Bold of his strength goes on , and in his eye A burning furnace glows , all bent to prey On sheep , or oxen ...
... head out . Look how from his den A mountain lion looks , that , all embrued With drops of trees , and weatherbeaten - hued , Bold of his strength goes on , and in his eye A burning furnace glows , all bent to prey On sheep , or oxen ...
3537. oldal
... heads to the blast . Again and again the sky was rent , and through the yawning crevices one beheld new heavens and vales of fire . What an awful , what a magnificent spectacle ! The trees were struck by lightning and ignited ; the ...
... heads to the blast . Again and again the sky was rent , and through the yawning crevices one beheld new heavens and vales of fire . What an awful , what a magnificent spectacle ! The trees were struck by lightning and ignited ; the ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Adelbert von Chamisso Alfonso Almoravides André Chénier ballads beautiful Brohl Bruff Cæsar called Canterbury Tales Chamisso Chanticleer Chapman character Châteaubriand Chatterton Chaucer Chénier Choate Christian Cicero Clay Coleridge Confucius death dream England English eyes father fear feel Gabbett genius GEOFFREY CHAUCER GEORGE CHAPMAN give glory hand hath head heart heaven Henry Clay Homer honor human interest Jimena King letters liberty literary literature live look Lorcy Lord MENCIUS mind moral nature Nausicaa never night once orator passed passion poems poet poetry political religion Rodrigo Samuel Brohl seemed shadow side song soul speak speech spirit stood sweet tell thee things Thomas Chatterton thou thought tion Tom Canty took translation truth turned Valencia verse Vetch Victor Cherbuliez virtue voice words writing wyllowe ynne young
Népszerű szakaszok
3835. oldal - In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round: And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
3848. oldal - He threw his blood-stained sword, in thunder, down ; And with a withering look, The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe...
3838. oldal - And the slant night-shower driving loud and fast! Those sounds which oft have raised me, whilst they awed, And sent my soul abroad, Might now perhaps their wonted impulse give, Might startle this dull pain, and make it move and live! II A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear, A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief, Which finds no natural outlet, no relief, In word, or sigh, or tear— 0 Lady!
3838. oldal - The Sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. "And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners
3809. oldal - IT fortifies my soul to know That, though I perish, Truth is so : That, howsoe'er I stray and range, Whate'er I do, Thou dost not change. I steadier step when I recall That, if I slip, Thou dost not fall.
3811. oldal - When fell the night, upsprung the breeze, And all the darkling hours they plied, Nor dreamt but each the self-same seas By each was cleaving, side by side : E'en so — but why the tale reveal Of those whom, year by year unchanged, Brief absence joined anew to feel, Astounded, soul from soul estranged?
3847. oldal - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ? Still it whisper'd promised pleasure And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail!
3838. oldal - Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud — We in ourselves rejoice! And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight, All melodies the echoes of that voice, All colours a suffusion from that light.
3838. oldal - WELL ! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence, This night, so tranquil now, will not go hence Unroused by winds, that ply a busier trade Than those which mould yon cloud in lazy flakes, Or the dull sobbing draft, that moans and rakes Upon the strings of this ^Eolian lute, Which better far were mute.
3846. oldal - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest ! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.