Poet Lore, 17. kötetWriter's Center, 1906 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 51 találatból.
1. oldal
... LISA ( ELISAVETA FEODOROVNA ) , PAVEL'S sister . ELENA NICOLAIEVNA , PAVEL's wife . DIMITRI SERGHEI EVITCH VAGHIN , an artist . BORIS NICOLAI EVITCH TCHEPURNY , a veterinary surgeon . MELANIE NICOLAIEVNA , sister of BORIS , a widow ...
... LISA ( ELISAVETA FEODOROVNA ) , PAVEL'S sister . ELENA NICOLAIEVNA , PAVEL's wife . DIMITRI SERGHEI EVITCH VAGHIN , an artist . BORIS NICOLAI EVITCH TCHEPURNY , a veterinary surgeon . MELANIE NICOLAIEVNA , sister of BORIS , a widow ...
3. oldal
... ( LISA quietly comes down the stairway , stops before the wardrobe and noiselessly opens it . ) Antonovna . But you ... Lisa . Nurse , you are disturbing Pavel in his work . Protassoff . Ah ! Are you here ? What is the good news ? Lisa ...
... ( LISA quietly comes down the stairway , stops before the wardrobe and noiselessly opens it . ) Antonovna . But you ... Lisa . Nurse , you are disturbing Pavel in his work . Protassoff . Ah ! Are you here ? What is the good news ? Lisa ...
4. oldal
... LISA admits him . ) Tchepurny . At home ? Good morning ! Lisa . How do you do ? Tchepurny ( Sniffing ) . And judging from the odor my learned friend is also at home . Lisa . From where do you come ? Tchepurny . Straight from a ...
... LISA admits him . ) Tchepurny . At home ? Good morning ! Lisa . How do you do ? Tchepurny ( Sniffing ) . And judging from the odor my learned friend is also at home . Lisa . From where do you come ? Tchepurny . Straight from a ...
5. oldal
... Lisa . Pavel , you had something to say to Yegor , didn't you ? Nurse was speaking to you about something . Protassoff . Something to say ? Ah , I remember . Yegor , sit down , please . Perhaps you will talk to him yourself , Lisa ? ( LISA ...
... Lisa . Pavel , you had something to say to Yegor , didn't you ? Nurse was speaking to you about something . Protassoff . Something to say ? Ah , I remember . Yegor , sit down , please . Perhaps you will talk to him yourself , Lisa ? ( LISA ...
6. oldal
... Lisa . Can such things be forgotten ? Tchepurny . What is the use ? Lisa . Where blood was shed , flowers will never bloom . Tchepurny . Yes they will , lots of them . Lisa ( Rises and paces the floor ) . Only hatred will grow there ...
... Lisa . Can such things be forgotten ? Tchepurny . What is the use ? Lisa . Where blood was shed , flowers will never bloom . Tchepurny . Yes they will , lots of them . Lisa ( Rises and paces the floor ) . Only hatred will grow there ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Akoolina Ivanovna Antonovna artist Axel beautiful Belshazzar better Bezsemenov Biskra brother Bruno Caliban called Cecilia Cecilia's betrothed child dear Dimitri door Dortka drama dream drink Elda Elena Elga enters Exit eyes father feel Fima George Keats German girl give goes Grischka Guimard hand Haus heart Hein human Ibsen Jehoikim Keats king laughing Lena Lindgren Lisa Listen literature live look Marina marry matter Melanie Misha mother Nazar Neregel never Nicolaievna night Nitocris nurse Oginski Pavel Pertshichin Peter play poem poet Polja Protassoff Rabsares Roman Ruben Schishkin Setebos Shakespeare short story Simoom smile soul speak spirit Starschenski Stepanida Steward talk Taro Tatiana Tchepurny tell Teterev thee things thou thought Tobit Troshin truth Ture understand Vaghin verse Wait Wassilyevich Whitman wife woman words writer Yegor Zwetahyeva
Népszerű szakaszok
79. oldal - And bade me creep past. No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements...
71. oldal - Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg, the ancient, stands. Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song, Memories haunt thy pointed gables, like the rooks that round them throng: Memories of the Middle Ages, when the emperors, rough and bold, Had their dwelling in thy castle, time-defying, centuries old; And thy brave and thrifty burghers boasted, in their uncouth rhyme, That their great imperial city stretched its hand through every clime.
105. oldal - And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings.
67. oldal - And with them the Being Beauteous, Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies.
114. oldal - ... heavy years increase — The horror quickening still from year to year, The consummation coming past escape When I shall know most, and yet least enjoy — When all my works wherein I prove my worth, Being present still to mock me in men's mouths, Alive still, in the praise of such as thou, I, I the feeling, thinking, acting man, The man who loved his life so over-much, Sleep in my urn.
67. oldal - WHEN the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight; Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fire-light Dance upon the parlor wall; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door; The beloved, the true-hearted, Come to visit me once more...
72. oldal - O poet saturnine! And strive to make my steps keep pace with thine. The air is filled with some unknown perfume; The congregation of the dead make room For thee to pass; the votive tapers shine; Like rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves of pine, The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb. From the confessionals I hear arise Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies, And lamentations from the crypts below And then a voice celestial that begins With the pathetic words, "Although your sins As scarlet be...
106. oldal - TO HELEN. Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
84. oldal - I know I am deathless, I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's compass, I know I shall not pass like a child's carlacue cut with a burnt stick at night.
91. oldal - Now understand me well — it is provided in the essence of things that from any fruition of success, no matter what, shall come forth something to make a greater struggle necessary.