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398. oldal - O'er the ocean wild and wide ! For my heart was hot and restless, And my life was full of care, And the burden laid upon me Seemed greater than I could bear. But now it has fallen from me, It is buried in the sea ; And only the sorrow of others Throws its shadow over me. Yet whenever I cross the river On its bridge with wooden piers, Like the odour of brine from the ocean Comes the thought of other years.
401. oldal - WE watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied — We thought her dying when she slept And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
398. oldal - Seemed to lift and bear them away; As, sweeping and eddying through them, Rose the belated tide, And, streaming into the moonlight, The sea-weed floated wide. And like those waters rushing Among the wooden piers, A flood of thoughts came o'er me That filled my eyes with tears.
402. oldal - Whatever fruits in different climes are found, That proudly rise, or humbly court the ground ; Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear, Whose bright succession decks the varied year ; Whatever sweets salute the northern sky With vernal lives, that blossom but to die ; These here disporting own the kindred soil, Nor ask luxuriance from the planter's toil...
397. oldal - I saw her bright reflection In the waters under me, Like a golden goblet falling And sinking into the sea. And far in the hazy distance Of that lovely night in June, The blaze of the flaming furnace Gleamed redder than the moon.
400. oldal - I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.
401. oldal - Never give up ! — though the grape-shot may rattle, Or the full thunder-cloud over you burst, Stand like a rock, — and the storm or the battle Little shall harm you, though doing their worst : Never give up ! — if adversity presses, Providence wisely has mingled the cup, And the best counsel, in all your distresses, Is the stout watchword of Never give up ! THE SUN.
401. oldal - Never give up! there are chances and changes Helping the hopeful a hundred to one, And through the chaos High Wisdom arranges Ever success, — if you'll only hope on: Never give up! for the wisest is boldest, Knowing that Providence mingles the cup, And of all maxims the best, as the oldest Is the true watchword of "Never give up!
387. oldal - ... che il bene; se a patto di riavere la vita di prima, con tutto il suo bene e il suo male, nessuno vorrebbe rinascere. Quella vita ch'è una cosa bella, non è la vita che si conosce, ma quella che non si conosce; non la vita passata, ma la futura.
395. oldal - A few short hours and he will rise To give the morrow birth; And I shall hail the main and skies But not my mother earth. Deserted is my own good hall, Its hearth is desolate; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall; My dog howls at the gate. 'Come hither, hither, my little page! Why dost thou weep and wail? Or dost thou dread the billows' rage, Or tremble at the gale?