The essays of EliaE. Moxon, 1840 |
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Αποτελέσματα 1 - 5 από τα 100.
Σελίδα 5
... leave , in the fulness of my soul , to regret the abolition , and doing - away - with altogether , of those consolatory interstices , and sprinklings of freedom , through the four seasons , -- the red- letter days , now become , to all ...
... leave , in the fulness of my soul , to regret the abolition , and doing - away - with altogether , of those consolatory interstices , and sprinklings of freedom , through the four seasons , -- the red- letter days , now become , to all ...
Σελίδα 6
... leaves , their winding- sheets . I could as soon dislodge a shade . I seem to inhale learning , walking amid their foliage ... leave these curiosities to Porson , and to G. D. - whom , by the way , I found busy as a moth over some rotten ...
... leaves , their winding- sheets . I could as soon dislodge a shade . I seem to inhale learning , walking amid their foliage ... leave these curiosities to Porson , and to G. D. - whom , by the way , I found busy as a moth over some rotten ...
Σελίδα 7
... leave with many ceremonies , and professions of regret . Some two or three hours after , his walking destinies returned him into the same neighbourhood again , and again the quiet image of the fire - side circle at M.'s - Mrs . M ...
... leave with many ceremonies , and professions of regret . Some two or three hours after , his walking destinies returned him into the same neighbourhood again , and again the quiet image of the fire - side circle at M.'s - Mrs . M ...
Σελίδα 8
... long warm days of summer never return but they bring with them a gloom from the haunting memory of those whole - day- leaves , when , by some strange arrangement , we 85 ELIA . CHRIST'S HOSPITAL FIVE-AND-THIRTY YEARS AGO.
... long warm days of summer never return but they bring with them a gloom from the haunting memory of those whole - day- leaves , when , by some strange arrangement , we 85 ELIA . CHRIST'S HOSPITAL FIVE-AND-THIRTY YEARS AGO.
Σελίδα 9
... leaves , when , by some strange arrangement , we were turned out , for the live - long day , upon our own hands , whether we had friends to go to , or none . I remember those bathing - excur- sions to the New - River , which L. recalls ...
... leaves , when , by some strange arrangement , we were turned out , for the live - long day , upon our own hands , whether we had friends to go to , or none . I remember those bathing - excur- sions to the New - River , which L. recalls ...
Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις
Angelo Anthonio Antipholis Bassanio beauty Benedick Bertram better brother brought called Cassio child Claudio confess count Paris cousin Cymbeline daughter dead dear death Desdemona dreams Dromio duke Ephesus eyes face fancy father fear feel Ganimed gentle gentleman give grace Hamlet hath hear heard heart Helena Hermia Hertfordshire honour husband Iago Illyria Imogen Isabel Katherine kind king knew lady Leonato lived look lord lord Capulet Lysander Lysimachus Macbeth maid manner Marina marriage married master Michael Cassio mind nature never night noble Olivia once Orlando Othello passion Pericles person Petruchio play pleasant poor Portia present prince Prospero Protheus Quakers queen remember replied Romeo Rosalind seemed seen Shylock sight sleep sort speak spirit strange sweet tell thee thing thou thought Timon tion told true truth Tybalt Valentine Viola whist wife wish words young youth
Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα
Σελίδα 55 - Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide; There, like a bird, it sits and sings, Then whets and combs its silver wings, And, till prepared for longer flight, Waves in its plumes the various light.
Σελίδα 55 - What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine; The nectarine and curious peach Into my hands themselves do reach; Stumbling on melons, as I pass, Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.
Σελίδα 74 - Not a flower, not a flower sweet, • On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O ! where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there.
Σελίδα 73 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat, like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
Σελίδα 69 - O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die ? The sense of death is most in apprehension ; And the poor beetle that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
Σελίδα 74 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it; My part of death no one so true Did share it.
Σελίδα 50 - In the same hour came forth fingers of a man's hand, and wrote over against the candlestick upon the plaster of the wall of the king's palace: and the king saw the part of the hand that wrote.
Σελίδα 95 - twas strange, 'twas passing strange; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful; She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished That heaven had made her such a man; she thanked me, And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake; She loved me for the dangers I had passed, And I loved her that she did pity them.
Σελίδα 75 - While he was thinking what he should say to his father, and wringing his hands over the smoking remnants of one of those untimely sufferers, an odor assailed his nostrils, unlike any scent which he had before experienced.
Σελίδα 42 - Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit? Are beauties there as proud as here they be ? Do they above love to be loved, and yet Those lovers scorn, whom that love doth possess? Do they call virtue there — ungratefulness!