Othmar, by Ouida, 2. kötet |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
amongst amused Amyôt artist asked Asnières beautiful Bérarde Béthune Blanchette Bonaventure breath château of Dampierre Chevreuse chidden colour cousin cruel Damaris dead dear Otho death Desclée doubt dreams emotion eyes face fancy feel felt flowers Friedrich Othmar gardens genius girl grandfather GRANT ALLEN grass Hameaux hand happy hated heard heart human indifference irritated island knew La Beauce laughed light lips lived looked Loswa Louis Roze lover Marie Antoinette marriage married memory mind Molière Nadège Nadine nature nectarine ness never night once pain Paris passed passion peace Pharamond Port-Royal Princess Lobow remember rose Rosselin Russia seemed seen sense sigh silent smile Sologne sophism soul summer sure sympathy tell temperament things thought Othmar told touched Tropez vague voice warm weary whilst wife wished woman women words young youth Yseulte
Népszerű szakaszok
295. oldal - How say you? Let us, O my dove, Let us be unashamed of soul, As earth lies bare to heaven above! How is it under our control To love or not to love?
38. oldal - Keep silence now, for singing-time is over And over all old things and all things dear. She loves not you nor me as all we love her. Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear, She would not hear. ] Let us rise up and part; she will not know. Let us go seaward as the great winds go, Full of blown sand and foam; what help is there?
39. oldal - There is no help, for all these things are so, And all the world is bitter as a tear. And how these things are, though ye strove to show, She would not know. Let us go home and hence ; she will not weep. We gave love many dreams and days to keep, Flowers without scent, and fruits that would not grow, Saying, " If thou wilt, thrust in thy sickle and reap.
39. oldal - Let us go hence and rest ; she will not love. She shall not hear us if we sing hereof, Nor see love's ways, how sore they are and steep. Come hence, let be, lie still ; it is enough. Love is a barren sea, bitter and deep ; And though she saw all heaven in flower above, She would not love.
39. oldal - And the sea moving saw before it move One moon-flower making all the foam-flowers fair; Though all those waves went over us, and drove Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair, She would not care.
30. oldal - I am half asleep !' she said as he entered. ' Why do you come and disturb me ? Where have you been all the evening ? You look as if you had seen the ghosts of all the tellers of the tales of the Heptameron!' She laughed a little as she spoke; she had put on a loose gown of soft white tissues, her hair was unbound; her feet were bare and slipped in Persian shoes sewn thick with pearls. She was lying back amongst the pale...
12. oldal - Laurel is green for a season, and love is sweet for a day; But love grows bitter with treason, and laurel outlives not May. Sleep, shall we sleep after all? for the world is not sweet in the end; For the old faiths loosen and fall, the new years ruin and rend.
45. oldal - ... repeating in his thoughts the Greek of Bion's sonnet to Hesperus. He was wishing vaguely that he had had the gift of poetical expression ; he knew that he thought as poets think, but nature had denied him the power of giving metrical utterance to them. He would sooner, he believed, on such moonlit nights as these, have been able to express what he felt, to portray what he fancied, than have had all the millions which "fate had allotted to him. Even a second-rate poet can have such happiness in...
2. oldal - I think so. All the science of history makes one sure of it: but at the present instant we are the oddest union of the most absolute barbarism and the most polished civilization that the world holds. Society has nothing so perfectly cultured as the Russian patrician; Europe has nothing so barbarously ignorant and besotted as the Russian peasant.