The Metropolitan, Том 49James Cochrane, 1847 |
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Amélie Annie Anselme arms Barbara BATTLE OF BENEVENTO beautiful better Cambet Caserta Charles Charles of Anjou church Copenhagen Count of Anjou Dallais dark daughter dear Dick Dinah Disraeli door Ephraim exclaimed eyes face fair father feel felt fortune Funchal gaze gentleman girl give Grace Hamburg hand happy head hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour John Sheares Josephine king Lancia laugh light lips live look Lucy Madame de Louvet Madeira Manfred Marmaduke Hutton marriage mind Miss Pestlepolge Montjoye Mordaunt Morland morning mother never night noble once pray Procida Puseyism replied scene seemed Sir Monk sister smile soul speak spirit Stephen Stephen Harding Stonehenge Swabia Tancred tears tell thee thing thou thought truth turned voice Walter Watkinson wish Wolsey woman word XLIX.-NO young lady
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Стр. 450 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale or piny mountain, Or forest, by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths ; all these have vanished. They live no longer in the faith of reason...
Стр. 61 - From his cradle, He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
Стр. 123 - Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded; 25. But ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would none of my reproof: 26.
Стр. 350 - ... and welfare of each other by a reciprocal interchange of good offices ; yet, with regard to government and internal economy, every individual church considered itself as an independent community, none of them ever looking, in these respects, beyond the circle of its own members for assistance, or recognizing any sort of external influence or authority.
Стр. 452 - Nor brought too long a day ; But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away.
Стр. 319 - After a painful struggle I yielded to my fate; I sighed as a lover, I obeyed as a son; my wound was insensibly healed by time, absence, and the habits of a new life.
Стр. 421 - Poetry is itself a thing of God; He made His prophets poets; and the more We feel of poesie do we become Like God in love and power, — under-makers.
Стр. 391 - Like a poet hidden, In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
Стр. 32 - The sides of the mountains were covered with trees; the banks of the brooks were diversified with flowers; every blast shook spices from the rocks and every month dropped fruits upon the ground.
Стр. 61 - And though he were unsatisfied in getting, — Which was a sin,- — yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely. Ever witness for him Those twins of learning, that he...