Eclectic Magazine, and Monthly Edition of the Living Age, Том 29John Holmes Agnew, Walter Hilliard Bidwell, Henry T. Steele Leavitt, Throw and Company, 1853 |
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Стр. 20
... letters stood on the other to dis- course pleasantly , and then read him to the subsequent siesta from a good book . Such sleep as a patristic folio could induce , mass again , a sermon , and an anthem filled up the afternoon . Evening ...
... letters stood on the other to dis- course pleasantly , and then read him to the subsequent siesta from a good book . Such sleep as a patristic folio could induce , mass again , a sermon , and an anthem filled up the afternoon . Evening ...
Стр. 21
... Letters - published at Brussels in 1843 , by the Baron de Reiffenbach - which remarkable series , however , affords invaluable glimpses of the hero of the sixteenth age , as seen by the eyes of his valet . The hero , always very chary ...
... Letters - published at Brussels in 1843 , by the Baron de Reiffenbach - which remarkable series , however , affords invaluable glimpses of the hero of the sixteenth age , as seen by the eyes of his valet . The hero , always very chary ...
Стр. 27
... letters of the friar - hating household . But I see no reason for questioning his accuracy in his account of the obsequies , which he published with the authority of his name , while men were still alive who could have contradicted a ...
... letters of the friar - hating household . But I see no reason for questioning his accuracy in his account of the obsequies , which he published with the authority of his name , while men were still alive who could have contradicted a ...
Стр. 41
... Letters , even in those to her daughter . Molière painted too correctly to put a word into the mouth of a fine lady , which fine ladies of the day did not use ; and he had too much respect for his patron to offend him by any breach of ...
... Letters , even in those to her daughter . Molière painted too correctly to put a word into the mouth of a fine lady , which fine ladies of the day did not use ; and he had too much respect for his patron to offend him by any breach of ...
Стр. 42
... letters , and ultimately , the brilliant son with " Le Tartuffe " or " Le Misanthrope , ' sketch of Voltaire , have thrown much light , to match which , with any approach to re- though nothing has done so more than his semblance , we ...
... letters , and ultimately , the brilliant son with " Le Tartuffe " or " Le Misanthrope , ' sketch of Voltaire , have thrown much light , to match which , with any approach to re- though nothing has done so more than his semblance , we ...
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Стр. 340 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea ; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free ! The ocean eagle soared From his nest by the white wave's foam, And the rocking pines of the forest roared, — This was their welcome home.
Стр. 412 - Who but must laugh if such a man there be ? Who would not weep if Atticus were he?
Стр. 417 - Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD!
Стр. 108 - And God saw every thing that he had made ; and behold it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.
Стр. 451 - They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms. Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.
Стр. 107 - And GOD said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth: and it was so.
Стр. 272 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Стр. 340 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north-wind's breath, And stars to set — but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death...
Стр. 338 - A perfect Woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command ; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of an angel 13 light. XV.— I WANDERED LONELY. 1804. I WANDERED lonely as a cloud...
Стр. 416 - The triumphal arch through which I march With hurricane, fire, and snow, When the powers of the air are chained to my chair, Is the million-colored bow; The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove, While the moist earth was laughing below. I am the daughter of earth and water, And the nursling of the sky: I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die.