The Carthusian, Выпуск 1S. Walker, 1837 |
Результаты поиска по книге
Результаты 1 – 5 из 39
Стр. 28
... hath left undone , When urged too far , her fav'rite son ; And maxims that friends ne'er refuse When time has robb'd them of their use . That merchant's soul , whate'er befell , Nor doubt nor fear could ever quell , But with that blow ...
... hath left undone , When urged too far , her fav'rite son ; And maxims that friends ne'er refuse When time has robb'd them of their use . That merchant's soul , whate'er befell , Nor doubt nor fear could ever quell , But with that blow ...
Стр. 33
... hath an isle , or the earth hath a bound ! We have labour'd through slander , through peril , and pain , The faith of the Fathers unchanged to maintain ; - - To that faith , which was left us on Calvary's brow We have held fast as yet ...
... hath an isle , or the earth hath a bound ! We have labour'd through slander , through peril , and pain , The faith of the Fathers unchanged to maintain ; - - To that faith , which was left us on Calvary's brow We have held fast as yet ...
Стр. 68
... con- ceded to gentlemen than it is to poets . Such an one cherisheth long ringlets under the rim of his hat , and hath no end of whiskers , for they meet under his chin . He cometh to a dejeuné in thin shoes and broad 68 THE CARTHUSIAN .
... con- ceded to gentlemen than it is to poets . Such an one cherisheth long ringlets under the rim of his hat , and hath no end of whiskers , for they meet under his chin . He cometh to a dejeuné in thin shoes and broad 68 THE CARTHUSIAN .
Стр. 69
... hath a namesake behind of most diminutive stature . He must have nothing in the common way . He driveth a piebald horse , or rideth a pony so that his legs touch the ground . A man of this style , if he be very tall , will have a very ...
... hath a namesake behind of most diminutive stature . He must have nothing in the common way . He driveth a piebald horse , or rideth a pony so that his legs touch the ground . A man of this style , if he be very tall , will have a very ...
Стр. 70
... hath brought , Like summer's evening sky from pole to pole Beshot with light , A mellow picture of my school - boy days ; In radiance bright Again fond fancy all their joys surveys . My every sense Of consciousness imbibes the subtle ...
... hath brought , Like summer's evening sky from pole to pole Beshot with light , A mellow picture of my school - boy days ; In radiance bright Again fond fancy all their joys surveys . My every sense Of consciousness imbibes the subtle ...
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Alice arms BARBICAN beautiful Brooke Hall brother called Carthusian chapel Charterhouse Charterhouse Lane Cicero cloister Connor M'Cormick court door Duke of Norfolk fair Father fear feelings FLEET STREET flowers garden gentleman give green Hamish hand happy hath Hawkhurst head hear heard heart honour hope hour Jupiter King lady Larnreagh look Lord Master ment Mercury mind monk morning Muse nature never o'er old Carthusians once onomatopœia ourselves Ovid Oxford passed pleasure poet poetry Preacher present principle Rackett racter readers REMEMBRANCE replied Richard Lovelace round scene schoolmaster seemed smile song soul spirit Spondees tell terrace thee Thomas Sutton thou thought tion tone Townshend Tracy Triumvirate verses Virg Virgil voice Vulcan wall wild wild thyme wish words writings youth
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 263 - Enlarged winds that curl the flood Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage ; Minds innocent and quiet take That for a hermitage.
Стр. 424 - Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest l thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more: Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
Стр. 252 - The glories of our birth and state Are shadows, not substantial things : There is no armour against Fate : Death lays his icy hand on Kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Стр. 463 - When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he, Cuckoo ; Cuckoo...
Стр. 480 - For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir-tree, and instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle-tree : and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.
Стр. 416 - Though oft the ear the open vowels tire ; While expletives their feeble aid do join ; And ten low words oft creep in one dull line ; While they ring round the same unvaried chimes, With sure returns of still-expected rhymes. Where'er you find " the cooling western breeze...
Стр. 413 - Boy's Song Where the pools are bright and deep, Where the gray trout lies asleep, Up the river and o'er the lea, That's the way for Billy and me. Where the blackbird sings the latest, Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest, Where the nestlings chirp and flee, That's the way for Billy and me.
Стр. 251 - True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, Dear, so much, Loved I not Honour more.
Стр. 252 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill : But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow; Then boast no more your mighty deeds! Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor-victim bleeds. Your heads must come To the cold tomb: Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom...
Стр. 420 - With many a weary step, and many a groan, Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone; The huge round stone, resulting with a bound, Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.