Library of the World's Best Literature: Ancient and ModernCharles Dudley Warner International Society, 1897 |
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3496. oldal
... Letters to His Son ' : Concerning Manners ; The Control of One's Countenance ; Dress as an Index to Character ; Some Remarks on Good Breeding The Choice of a Vocation THE LITERATURE OF CHINA 3629 BY ROBERT K. DOUGLAS Selected Maxims of ...
... Letters to His Son ' : Concerning Manners ; The Control of One's Countenance ; Dress as an Index to Character ; Some Remarks on Good Breeding The Choice of a Vocation THE LITERATURE OF CHINA 3629 BY ROBERT K. DOUGLAS Selected Maxims of ...
3497. oldal
... Letters : To Tiro ; To Atticus Sulpicius Consoles Cicero after His Daughter Tullia's Death Cicero's Reply to Sulpicius A Homesick Exile Cicero's Vacillation in the Civil War Cicero's Correspondents : Cæsar to Cicero ; Cæsar to Cicero ...
... Letters : To Tiro ; To Atticus Sulpicius Consoles Cicero after His Daughter Tullia's Death Cicero's Reply to Sulpicius A Homesick Exile Cicero's Vacillation in the Civil War Cicero's Correspondents : Cæsar to Cicero ; Cæsar to Cicero ...
3506. oldal
... letter from my hand . " So , so , from my brother . I have heard nothing from him for a long time . But he is well ? There , " continued he , addressing the company , without waiting for an answer , and pointing with the letter to a ...
... letter from my hand . " So , so , from my brother . I have heard nothing from him for a long time . But he is well ? There , " continued he , addressing the company , without waiting for an answer , and pointing with the letter to a ...
3507. oldal
... letter , which he then thrust into his pocket , and turned again to the com- pany . He offered his arm to a young lady ; the other gentlemen addressed themselves to other fair ones ; each found what suited him : and all proceeded ...
... letter , which he then thrust into his pocket , and turned again to the com- pany . He offered his arm to a young lady ; the other gentlemen addressed themselves to other fair ones ; each found what suited him : and all proceeded ...
3531. oldal
... letters like La Harpe , Le Brun , and Fontanes . At the outbreak of the Revolution he quitted the service , and embarked for America in Jan- uary , 1791. Tiring of the restraints of civilization , he plunged into the virgin forests of ...
... letters like La Harpe , Le Brun , and Fontanes . At the outbreak of the Revolution he quitted the service , and embarked for America in Jan- uary , 1791. Tiring of the restraints of civilization , he plunged into the virgin forests of ...
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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.