Truths illustrated by great authors [ed. by W. White].1885 - Всего страниц: 560 |
Результаты поиска по книге
Результаты 1 – 5 из 61
Стр. 5
... rest of the World will give us the privilege or not , we have so little to ask of them , that we can take it . Age . - - La Rochefoucauld . FEW People know how to be old . Age . - Shakespeare . THE aim of all is OR , THINGS NEW AND OLD . 5.
... rest of the World will give us the privilege or not , we have so little to ask of them , that we can take it . Age . - - La Rochefoucauld . FEW People know how to be old . Age . - Shakespeare . THE aim of all is OR , THINGS NEW AND OLD . 5.
Стр. 8
... rest ; a Fever at the core , Fatal to him who bears , to all who ever bore . This makes the Madmen who have made men mad By their contagion ; Conquerors and Kings , Founders of Sects and Systems , to whom add Sophists , Bards ...
... rest ; a Fever at the core , Fatal to him who bears , to all who ever bore . This makes the Madmen who have made men mad By their contagion ; Conquerors and Kings , Founders of Sects and Systems , to whom add Sophists , Bards ...
Стр. 10
... rest in ignorance of the I own Body , especially ledge of it mainly conduces to his welfare , and directs his application of his own Powers . IT Ancestry . Colton . is with Antiquity as with Ancestry , Nations are proud of the one , and ...
... rest in ignorance of the I own Body , especially ledge of it mainly conduces to his welfare , and directs his application of his own Powers . IT Ancestry . Colton . is with Antiquity as with Ancestry , Nations are proud of the one , and ...
Стр. 14
... rest still resolves the doubt . Art . Lavater . - THE enemy of Art is the enemy of Nature ; Art is nothing but the highest sagacity and exertion of Human Nature ; and what Nature will he honour who honours not the Human ? Art . - From ...
... rest still resolves the doubt . Art . Lavater . - THE enemy of Art is the enemy of Nature ; Art is nothing but the highest sagacity and exertion of Human Nature ; and what Nature will he honour who honours not the Human ? Art . - From ...
Стр. 39
... rest ! Calm . Moore . - WAS one of those ambrosial eves ' TA day of Storm so often leaves At its calm setting - when the West Opens her golden Bowers of Rest , And a moist radiance from the skies Shoots trembling down , as from the eyes ...
... rest ! Calm . Moore . - WAS one of those ambrosial eves ' TA day of Storm so often leaves At its calm setting - when the West Opens her golden Bowers of Rest , And a moist radiance from the skies Shoots trembling down , as from the eyes ...
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
action Affection Anon appear bear Beauty become better body breath Byron Character Colton Conversation Death delight doth Earth Evil eyes face fair fall fear feel fire Fool Fortune Friends Friendship give Gold Government Grace Greville Grief grow hand Happiness hath Health Heart Heaven Honour Hope hour human keep kind Knowledge Learning leave less light live looks Love man's Manners Marriage means Milton Mind mortal Nature never Night o'er once pain Passions Peace perfect persons Pleasure poor possess present Pride Reason Religion rest rich Rochefoucauld seems sense Shakespeare Sleep smile Sorrow Soul speak Spenser spirit sweet Tears thee things thou thought tongue true Truth turn Vice Virtue weak whole wind Wisdom wise Woman Young Youth
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 104 - O ! who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast? Or wallow naked in December snow By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
Стр. 356 - It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes, Tis mightiest in the mightiest, it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown. His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings: But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice...
Стр. 140 - But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres ; Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porcupine...
Стр. 377 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The...
Стр. 444 - Dark-heaving ; boundless, endless, and sublime, The image of Eternity, the throne Of the invisible, — even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Стр. 205 - That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery, That aptly is put on.
Стр. 35 - Thus with the year Seasons return; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me...
Стр. 438 - IX. 0 how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! X.
Стр. 467 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more...
Стр. 199 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.