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arms beauty better bird blow born breath brother clouds comes dark dead death deep earth England entered eyes face fair fall father fear feel field fire give given glory gold hand head hear heard heart heaven hill honor hour hundred land leave light live look Lord loud matter mean mind morning mountain moved natural never night ocean once pass poor reading returned rise round seemed sense ship shore side silent soon soul sound speak spirit stand stars stood stream sweet tell thee things thou thought thousand tone town true turned voice watch waves whole wind young
Стр. 49 - Shylock, we would have moneys : ' you say so ; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold : moneys is your suit. What should I say to you ? Should I not say ' Hath a dog money ? is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats...
Стр. 83 - Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.
Стр. 106 - I WIND about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling...
Стр. 352 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: — not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play — Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow — Such as creation's dawn beheld thou rollest now.
Стр. 352 - The armaments which thunder-strike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war ; These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.
Стр. 335 - When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder. I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast ; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Стр. 369 - To the very moment that he bade me tell it : Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field ; Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach...
Стр. 336 - The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
Стр. 247 - All this? ay, more: Fret till your proud heart break; Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble.
Стр. 41 - The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel, And the former called the latter 'Little Prig; Bun replied, 'You are doubtless very big; But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together, To make up a year And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, You are not so small as I, And not half so spry. I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track; Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you...