The Stanley tales, original and select, Bände 1-31826 |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 76
Seite 173
Ambrose Marten. I ask , with that truly noble English poet whose soul burns with the divine enthusiasm and the lofty eloquence of our own Plato himself , and who is a Greek in feeling , if not in country , And where are they ? And where ...
Ambrose Marten. I ask , with that truly noble English poet whose soul burns with the divine enthusiasm and the lofty eloquence of our own Plato himself , and who is a Greek in feeling , if not in country , And where are they ? And where ...
Seite 185
... soul ; " - I have done and suffered all this and more — but the whole sufferings of my past guilty life , though concentrated into one moment of agony , would have been as nothing to the burning and consuming suspense of that horrid ...
... soul ; " - I have done and suffered all this and more — but the whole sufferings of my past guilty life , though concentrated into one moment of agony , would have been as nothing to the burning and consuming suspense of that horrid ...
Seite 224
... soul . " What then can she weep for ? " said he to himself " Has my rough manner terrified her ? or in my hurry , have I used to her some harsh words ? " He had already the light in his hands , and anxiously " " hastened after her ...
... soul . " What then can she weep for ? " said he to himself " Has my rough manner terrified her ? or in my hurry , have I used to her some harsh words ? " He had already the light in his hands , and anxiously " " hastened after her ...
Seite 227
... soul , " thought he , " " thou art already making the most of these midnight hours , which to thee begin a week of hard labour . " The glowing iron now brightly scattered its sparks , as if from the bowels of the earth , into the lonely ...
... soul , " thought he , " " thou art already making the most of these midnight hours , which to thee begin a week of hard labour . " The glowing iron now brightly scattered its sparks , as if from the bowels of the earth , into the lonely ...
Seite 235
... soul I won't suffer it ! " The butcher would now have interfered again : but the fellow , over and over , with the red flush of anger on his countenance , persisted : " What the devil ! shall I allow myself to be abused in this manner ...
... soul I won't suffer it ! " The butcher would now have interfered again : but the fellow , over and over , with the red flush of anger on his countenance , persisted : " What the devil ! shall I allow myself to be abused in this manner ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Adelaide Alexiew Alphonse answered appeared arms Arnaut avalanche bagnio baron beautiful began bishop of Beauvais brother castle child concealed cottage countenance cried dæmon dark daughter dear death delight door ducats duke Edeliza Elfrida Elly enemy entered exclaimed eyes face father fear feelings fell Florence gave girl Greece Grisons halberd hand happy head heard heart heaven Hildegarde honour hope hour husband Jeronimo knew lady Leofwyn live looked lord Lothaire Lucens Madalena marriage marry Marseilles master melancholy mind morning mother never Nicolas night noble once Oswald Padua passed Pedrosa perceived Philip poor racter Reginald replied returned round Saalburg Santa Maura Saxon scarcely seemed servant silence smile snow soon soul spirit stood Stürvis Suabians sword tears thee thing thou thought took trembling voice Voivode wife wish Wolfe woman words young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 282 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Seite 132 - ... and accomplishment of the most refined ones ; every better feeling warm and vivid, every ungentle one repressed or overcome. He was not addicted to love ; but he felt himself happy in being the friend of Mademoiselle La Roche, and sometimes envied her father the possession of such a child. After a journey of eleven days, they arrived at the dwelling of La Roche. . It was situated in one of those valleys of the canton of Berne, where Nature seems to repose, as it were, in quiet, and has enclosed...
Seite 287 - tis slander; Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.
Seite 142 - s heart was smitten ; and I have heard him, long after, confess that there were moments when the remembrance overcame him even to weakness ; when, amidst all the pleasures of philosophical discovery, and the pride of literary fame, he recalled to his mind the venerable figure of the good La Roche, and wished that he had never doubted.
Seite 175 - Must we but blush? — Our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three To make a new Thermopylae! What, silent still ? and silent all ? Ah, no; — the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, " Let one living head, But one, arise — we come, we come!
Seite 127 - s, the finer and more delicate sensibilities are seldom known to have place; or, if originally implanted there, are in a great measure extinguished by the exertions of intense study and profound investigation. Hence the idea of philosophy and...
Seite 175 - Must we but weep o'er days more blest? Must we but blush?— our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred, grant but three To make a new Thermopylae!
Seite 134 - ... the exquisite pleasure derived from music, you regret your want of musical powers and musical feelings ; it is a department of soul, you say, which nature has almost denied you, which, from the effects you see it have on others, you are sure must be highly delightful. Why should not the same thing be said of religion? Trust me I feel it in the same way, an energy, an inspiration, which I would not lose for all the blessings of sense, or enjoyments of the world ; yet so far from lessening my relish...
Seite 175 - And where are they? and where art thou, My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine?
Seite 126 - Come near to me, William; kneel down by the bed-side, and let my hand feel the head of my beloved son ; for blindness is coming fast upon me. Thou wert my first-born, and thou art my only living son. All thy brothers and sisters are lying in the churchyard, beside her whose sweet face thine own, William, did once so much resemble. Long wert thou the joy, the pride of my soul.