Odd Bits of Travel with Brush and Camera

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G. W. Jacobs & Company, 1900 - Всего страниц: 356
 

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Стр. 96 - Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly, Not of the stains of her; All that remains of her Now is pure womanly. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny Rash and undutiful: Past all dishonor, Death has left on her Only the beautiful.
Стр. 355 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll [ Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; — upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed...
Стр. 318 - And in at the windows, and in at the door, And through the walls by thousands they pour; And down from the ceiling and up through the floor, From the right and the left, from behind and before, From within and without, from above and below, — And all at once to the Bishop they go. They have whetted their teeth against the stones, And now they pick the Bishop's bones; They gnawed the flesh from every limb, For they were sent to do judgment on him!
Стр. 293 - The castled crag of Drachenfels("> Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine...
Стр. 355 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin, his control Stops with the shore; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.
Стр. 207 - Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause ; An awful pause! prophetic of her end.
Стр. 89 - It is my wish that my ashes may repose on the banks of the Seine, in the midst of the French people, whom I have loved so well.
Стр. 293 - And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scatter'd cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine, Have strew'da scene, which I should see With double joy wert thou with me.
Стр. 283 - He cannot try to speak with gravity, But one perceives he wags an idle tongue; He cannot try to look demure, but spite Of all he does, he shows a laugher's cheek; He cannot e'en essay to walk sedate, But in his very gait one sees a jest, That 's ready to break out in spite of all His seeming.
Стр. 326 - We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most — feels the noblest — acts the best...

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