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198. oldal - A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come : but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world.
320. oldal - ALL houses wherein men have lived and died Are haunted houses. Through the open doors The harmless phantoms on their errands glide, With feet that make no sound upon the floors. We meet them at the doorway, on the stair, Along the passages they come and go, Impalpable impressions on the air, A sense of something moving to and fro.
70. oldal - How it swells ; — how it dwells On the Future ! how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells...
239. oldal - The principle of utility recognises this subjection, and assumes it for the foundation of that system, the object of which is to rear the fabric of felicity by the hands of reason and of law.
320. oldal - Happy he whom neither wealth nor fashion, Nor the march of the encroaching city, Drives an exile From the hearth of his ancestral homestead. We may build more splendid habitations, Fill our rooms with paintings and with sculptures, But we cannot Buy with gold the old associations ! CATAWBA WINE.
320. oldal - We meet them at the door-way, on the stair, Along the passages they come and go, Impalpable impressions on the air, A sense of something moving to and fro. There are more guests at table than the hosts Invited ; the illuminated hall Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts, As silent as the pictures on the wall.
197. oldal - And it shall come to pass in that day, saith the Lord God, that I will cause the sun to go down at noon, and I will darken the earth in the clear day: and I will turn your feasts into mourning, and all your songs into lamentation...
320. oldal - SAINT AUGUSTINE ! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame ! All common things, each day's events, That with the hour begin and end, Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend. The low desire, the base design, That makes another's virtues less...
322. oldal - The Angels of Wind and of Fire Chant only one hymn, and expire With the song's irresistible stress ; Expire in their rapture and wonder, As harp-strings are broken asunder By music they throb to express.