Faith and Unfaith: A Novel

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J.B. Lippincott, 1896 - Всего страниц: 302

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Стр. 130 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Стр. 280 - For it so falls out, That what we have we prize not to the worth, Whiles we enjoy it; but being lack'd and lost, Why, then we rack the value; then we find The virtue, that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours...
Стр. 296 - Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing ; While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round : Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Стр. 110 - For valour, is not love a Hercules, Still climbing trees in the Hesperides ? Subtle as sphinx ; as sweet, and musical, As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair ; And, when love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Стр. 187 - There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate, She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate. The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near ;" And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;" And the lily whispers, "I wait.
Стр. 267 - The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. An evil soul, producing holy witness, Is like a villain with a smiling cheek ; A goodly apple rotten at the heart ; Oh, what a goodly outside falsehood hath ! Shy.
Стр. 237 - Th' illumined mountain, through the forest streams, Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mist, Far smoking o'er th' interminable plain, In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems. Moist, bright, and green, the landscape laughs around. Full swell the woods ; their...
Стр. 222 - Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide ; To lose good days that might be better spent ; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow ; To feed on hope ; to pine with fear and sorrow ; To have thy Prince's grace, yet want her peers...
Стр. 160 - Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth To dim enchantments ; melting Heaven with Earth, Leaving on craggy hills and running streams A softness like the atmosphere of dreams ; Thy hour to all is welcome ! Faint and sweet Thy light falls round the peasant's homeward feet, Who, slow returning from his task of toil, Sees the low sunset gild the cultured soil, And, tho' such radiance round him brightly glows, Marks the small spark his cottage window throws.
Стр. 264 - Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain.

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