The Duke: A Novel, Том 2

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Стр. 207 - Will the Lord cast off for ever? and will he be favourable no more ? Is his mercy clean gone for ever? doth his promise fail for evermore? Hath God forgotten to be gracious? hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies?
Стр. 54 - Vast lawns that extend like sheets of vivid green, with here and there clumps of gigantic trees heaping up rich piles of foliage; the solemn pomp of groves and woodland glades with the deer trooping in silent herds across them, the hare bounding away to the covert, or the pheasant suddenly bursting upon the wing; the brook, taught to wind in...
Стр. 212 - And the least cadence of a whisper'd word A daughter's love may prove ; And while I speak, thou knowest if I smile, Albeit thou canst not see my face the while ! Yes, thou canst hear ! and He Who on thy sightless eye its darkness hung, To the attentive ear, like harps, hath strung Heaven, and...
Стр. 24 - A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty; And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
Стр. 116 - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but him had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm — A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though childlike form.
Стр. 47 - HAPPY is England ! I could be content To see no other verdure than its own ; To feel no other breezes than are blown Through its tall woods with high romances blent : Yet do I sometimes feel a languishment For skies Italian, and an inward groan To sit upon an Alp as on a throne, And half forget what world or worldling meant. Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters ; Enough their simple loveliness for me, Enough their whitest arms in silence clinging : Yet...
Стр. 54 - Nothing can be more imposing than the magnificence of English park scenery. Vast lawns that extend like sheets of vivid green, with here and there clumps of gigantic trees heaping up rich piles of foliage; the solemn pomp of groves and woodland glades with the deer trooping in silent herds across them...
Стр. 192 - The shade of youthful Hope is there, That linger'd long, and latest died ; Ambition all dissolved to air, With phantom honours at her side. What empty shadows glimmer nigh ! They once were Friendship, Truth, and Love ! Oh, die to thought, to memory die, Since lifeless to my heart ye prove ! w.
Стр. 147 - This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever Ran on the green-sward : nothing she does or seems But smacks of something greater than herself, Too noble for this place.

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