LucileTicknor and Fields, 1868 - 261 lappuses |
No grāmatas satura
1.–5. rezultāts no 52.
ii. lappuse
... sight of a neat little letter , address'd In a woman's handwriting , containing , half guess'd , An odour of violets faint as the Spring , And coquettishly seal'd with a small signet - ring . But in Autumn , the season of sombre ...
... sight of a neat little letter , address'd In a woman's handwriting , containing , half guess'd , An odour of violets faint as the Spring , And coquettishly seal'd with a small signet - ring . But in Autumn , the season of sombre ...
2. lappuse
... sight of a neat little letter , address'd In a woman's handwriting , containing , half guess'd , An odour of violets faint as the Spring , And coquettishly seal'd with a small signet - ring . But in Autumn , the season of sombre ...
... sight of a neat little letter , address'd In a woman's handwriting , containing , half guess'd , An odour of violets faint as the Spring , And coquettishly seal'd with a small signet - ring . But in Autumn , the season of sombre ...
9. lappuse
... sight of luxurious things ; Who hath watch'd the wine flow , by himself but half tasted , Heard the music , and yet miss'd the tune ; who hath wasted One part of life's grand possibilities ; -friend , That man will bear with him , be ...
... sight of luxurious things ; Who hath watch'd the wine flow , by himself but half tasted , Heard the music , and yet miss'd the tune ; who hath wasted One part of life's grand possibilities ; -friend , That man will bear with him , be ...
15. lappuse
... sight Of such callous indifference , who could be calm ? I must leave you at once , Jack , or else the last balm That is left me in Gilead you'll turn into gall . Heartless , cold , unconcern'd · · JOHN . Have you done ? Is that all ...
... sight Of such callous indifference , who could be calm ? I must leave you at once , Jack , or else the last balm That is left me in Gilead you'll turn into gall . Heartless , cold , unconcern'd · · JOHN . Have you done ? Is that all ...
20. lappuse
... sight , I first label my hero . III . The age is gone o'er When a man may in all things be all . We have more Painters , poets , musicians , and artists , no doubt , Than the great Cinquecento gave birth to ; but out Of a million of ...
... sight , I first label my hero . III . The age is gone o'er When a man may in all things be all . We have more Painters , poets , musicians , and artists , no doubt , Than the great Cinquecento gave birth to ; but out Of a million of ...
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Alfred Vargrave answer'd appear'd beauty Bigorre bosom bow'd breast brow Comtesse de Nevers Constànce cousin dark dear deep door doubt dream droop'd Duc de Luvois Duke emotion enter'd Eugène de Luvois Euroclydon exclaim'd eyes face fail'd faint fair feel felt fix'd follow'd forgive France gaze hand hath heard heart heaven hope Hush JOHN lady letter life's light lips live lone look look'd Lord Alfred Lucile de Nevers madam man's Matilda milord motley fool mountain murmur'd Neath night o'er once pale Paradise Bird pass'd passion perchance Pyrenees reach'd replied return'd reveal'd rose round Saint Saviour seem'd Serchon sigh'd sight silence Sir Ridley smile soft sorrow soul star stood strange STRANGER strife sweet tears thee things thou thought truth turn'd Twas Twixt vex'd voice walk'd watch'd wife wild wind woman word yore young youth
Populāri fragmenti
26. lappuse - We may live without poetry, music, and art; We may live without conscience, and live without heart ; We may live without friends ; we may live without books ; But civilized man cannot live without cooks. He may live without books, — what is knowledge but grieving ? He may live without hope, — what is hope but deceiving ? He may live without love, — what is passion but pining ? But where is the man that can live without dining ? Lord Alfred found, waiting his coming, a note From Lucile.
243. lappuse - No life Can be pure in its purpose and strong in its strife And all life not be purer and stronger thereby. The spirits of just men made perfect on high, The army of martyrs who stand by the Throne And gaze into the Face that makes glorious their own, Know this, surely, at last. Honest love, honest sorrow, Honest work for the day, honest hope for the morrow, Are these worth nothing more than the hand they make weary, The heart they have sadden' d, the life they leave dreary ? Hush ! the sevenfold...
242. lappuse - The mission of woman on earth ! to give birth To the mercy of Heaven descending on earth. The mission of woman : permitted to bruise The head of the serpent, and sweetly infuse, Through the sorrow and sin of earth's register'd curse, The blessing which mitigates all : born to nurse, And to soothe, and to solace, to help and to heal The sick world that leans on her.
26. lappuse - O hour of all hours, the most bless'd upon earth, Blessed hour of our dinners ! The land of his birth ; The face of his first love ; the bills that he owes ; The twaddle of friends, and the venom of foes ; The sermon he heard when to church he last went; The money he borrow...
15. lappuse - The man who seeks one thing in life, and but one. May hope to achieve it before life be done ; But he who seeks all things, wherever he goes, Only reaps from the hopes which around him he sows A harvest of barren regrets.
243. lappuse - No star ever rose And set, without influence somewhere. Who knows What earth needs from earth's lowest creature ? No life Can be pure in its purpose and strong in its strife And all life not be purer and stronger thereby. The spirits of just men made perfect on high, The army of martyrs who stand by the Throne And gaze into the Face that makes glorious their own, Know this, surely, at last. Honest love, honest sorrow, Honest work for the day, honest hope for the morrow, Are these worth nothing more...
149. lappuse - LUCILE. No, no ! are you blind ? Look into your own heart and home. Can you see No reason for this, save unkindness in me ? Look into the eyes of your wife — those true eyes, Too pure and too honest in aught to disguise The sweet soul shining through them. ALFRED Lucile ! (first and last Be the word, il you will !) let me speak of the past.
202. lappuse - And bold must the man be that braves the Unknown ! Not a truth has to art or to science been given, But brows have ached for it, and souls toiled and striven ; And many have striven, and many have failed, And many died, slain by the truth they assailed.
66. lappuse - Meanwhile, The sun, in his setting, sent up the last smile Of his power, to baffle the storm. And, behold ! O'er the mountains embattled, his armies, all gold, Rose and rested : while far up the dim airy crags, Its artillery silenced...