Macready's Reminiscences and Selections from His Diaries and Letters, 2. kötet

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Harper & Brothers, 1875 - 721 oldal
 

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372. oldal - Action is transitory — a step, a blow. The motion of a muscle — this way or that — 'Tis done, and in the after-vacancy We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed : Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity.
117. oldal - I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan: very pleasant hast thou been unto me: thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.
174. oldal - Sound needed none, Nor any voice of joy ; his spirit drank The spectacle: sensation, soul, and form, All melted into him; they swallowed up His animal being ; in them did he live, And by them did he live; they were his life. In such access of mind, in such high hour Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not ; in enjoyment it expired.
71. oldal - My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.
727. oldal - KINGLAKE'S CRIMEAN WAR. The Invasion of the Crimea: its Origin, and an Account of its Progress down to the Death of Lord Raglan.
36. oldal - ... accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
728. oldal - The Desert of the Exodus. Journeys on Foot in the Wilderness of the Forty Years' Wanderings, undertaken in connection with the Ordnance Survey of Sinai and the Palestine Exploration Fund. By EH PALMER, MA, Lord Almoner's Professor of Arabic and Fellow of St.
81. oldal - His was the spell o'er hearts Which only acting lends, — The youngest of the sister Arts, Where all their beauty blends : For ill can Poetry express Full many a tone of thought sublime, And Painting, mute and motionless, Steals but a glance of time. But by the mighty actor brought, Illusion's perfect triumphs come, — Verse ceases to be airy thought, And Sculpture to be dumb.
539. oldal - Each (for madness ruled the hour), Would prove his own expressive power. First Fear his hand, its skill to try, Amid the chords bewildered laid, And back recoiled, he knew not why, Even at the sound himself had made.
689. oldal - Oh that I had the wings of a dove! then would I fly away and be at rest.

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