Letters of the Rt. Hon. Henry Austin Bruce, Lord Aberdare of Duffryn: With Biographical Introductions and Notes, 2. kötet

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private circulation, 1902
 

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334. oldal - They are all gone into the world of light ! And I alone sit lingering here ; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear. It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, Like stars upon some gloomy grove, Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest, After the sun's remove.
28. oldal - We are here among the vast and noble scenes of nature ; we are there among the pitiful shifts of policy: we walk here in the light and open ways of the divine bounty; we grope there in the dark and confused labyrinths of human malice: our senses are here feasted with the clear and genuine taste of their objects ; which are all sophisticated there, and for the most part overwhelmed with their contraries.
298. oldal - Yet come it will, the day decreed by fates! (How my heart trembles while my tongue relates!) The day when thou, imperial Troy! must bend, And see thy warriors fall, thy glories end.
119. oldal - I must reluctantly observe that two causes, the abbreviation of time and the failure of hope, will always tinge with a browner shade the evening of life.
245. oldal - And yet poor Edwin was no vulgar boy ; Deep thought oft seemed to fix his infant eye. Dainties he heeded not, nor gaud nor toy, Save one short pipe of rudest minstrelsy. Silent, when glad ; affectionate, though shy ; And now his look was most demurely sad ; And now he laughed aloud, yet none knew why. The neighbours stared and sighed, yet blessed the lad : Some deemed him wondrous wise, and some believed him mad.
79. oldal - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
213. oldal - After the sun's remove. I see them walking in an air of glory, "Whose light doth trample on my days — My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, Mere glimmering and decays.
236. oldal - With Nature never do they wage A foolish strife ; they see A happy youth, and their old age Is beautiful and free. But we are pressed by heavy laws; And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy because We have been glad of yore.
318. oldal - Tis time to live if I grow old. 'Tis time short pleasures now to take, Of little life the best to make, And manage wisely the last stake.
310. oldal - The Scythians always ate their grandfathers ; they behaved very respectfully to them for a long time, but as soon as their grandfathers became old and troublesome, and began to tell long stories, they immediately eat them: nothing could be more improper, and even disrespectful, than dining off such near and venerable relations ; yet we could not with any propriety accuse them of bad taste in morals.

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