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Könyvek 153 / 1 - 10. könyv a(z) So careful of the type?' but no, From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries... kifejezésre.
" So careful of the type?' but no, From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries "A thousand types are gone. I care for nothing; all shall go. "Thou makest thine appeal to me: I bring to life, I bring to death; The spirit does but mean the breath; I know... "
The Canadian Journal of Industry, Science and Art - 205. oldal
1857
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

The Christian observer [afterw.] The Christian observer and advocate

1869
...there is no future life. It is the answer which the poet has put into the mouth of mere Nature : — " Thou makest thine appeal to me, I bring to life, I bring to death, The spirit doth but mean the breath ; I know no more." " This is all that there is in man, the material elements...

The General Baptist repository, and Missionary observer [afterw.] The ...

1877
...of range, costliness of apparatus, and splendour of achievement, augur for him a limitless future. And he, shall he ? " Man, her last work, who seemed...Such splendid purpose in his eyes ; Who rolled the psalms to wintry skies ; Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, Who trusted God was love indeed,...

The Living Age, 199. kötet

1893
...type ? " but no, From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries, "A thousand types are gone : I care for nothing, all shall go. " Thou makest thine appeal...no more." And he, shall he, Man, her last work, who seem'd so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, Who built...

The Living Age ..., 112. kötet

1872
...and ghosts as fluttering about like birds or fairies, The poet of the nineteenth century says ; — " The spirit does but mean the breath, I know no more." And the same thought was expressed by Cicero two thousand years ago : '• Whether the soul is air or fire,...

In Memoriam, 1. kiadás

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1850 - 210 oldal
...type ? ' but no. Prom scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries ' a thousand types are gone : I care for nothing, all shall go. Thou makest thine appeal...no more.' And he, shall he, Man, her last work, who seem'd so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, Who built...

In memoriam

Baron Alfred Tennyson Tennyson - 1850 - 210 oldal
...type ? ' but no. From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries ' a thousand types are gone I care for nothing, all shall go. Thou makest thine appeal...no more.' And he, shall he, Man, her last work, who seem'd so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, Who built...

In memoriam

Baron Alfred Tennyson Tennyson - 1850 - 216 oldal
...type ?" but no. From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries, " A thousand types are gone : I care for nothing, all shall go. " Thou makest thine appeal to me : \I bring to life, I bring to death : iThe spirit does but mean the breath : I know no more." And he, shall he, Man, her last work, who...

The Princess: A Medley

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1851 - 183 oldal
...type ? ' but no. From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries ' a thousand types are gone : I care for nothing, all shall go. Thou makest thine appeal...no more.' And he, shall he, Man, her last work, who seem'd so fan-, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, Who built...

In memoriam [by A. Tennyson].

Alfred Tennyson (1st baron.) - 1851
...type ?' but no. From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries ' a thousand types are gone: I care for nothing, all shall go. Thou makest thine appeal...no more.' And he, shall he, Man, her last work, who seem'd so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, Who built...

The Rose of Sharon: A Religious Souvenir

Caroline Mehetabel Sawyer - 1853
...runs through all the scope of things, we are ready to exclaim "And he, shall be, " Man, her last wort, who seemed so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who rolled the psalm to wintry skies, Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, " Who trusted God was Love indeed, And Love creation's final...




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