Carleton's Hand-book of Popular QuotationsG. W. Carleton & Company, 1877 - 340 страници |
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Страница 12
... sleep Full of sweet dreams and health , and quiet breathing . BEAUTY , blemish'd once , for ever's lost . KEATS , Endymion . SHAKESPERE , P. Pilgrim . BEAUTY is truth , truth beauty , -that is all Ye know on earth , and all ye need to ...
... sleep Full of sweet dreams and health , and quiet breathing . BEAUTY , blemish'd once , for ever's lost . KEATS , Endymion . SHAKESPERE , P. Pilgrim . BEAUTY is truth , truth beauty , -that is all Ye know on earth , and all ye need to ...
Страница 14
... sleep and a forgetting ; The soul that rises with us , our life's Star , Hath had elsewhere its setting , And cometh from afar ; Not in entire forgetfulness , And not in utter darkness , But trailing clouds of glory , do we come From ...
... sleep and a forgetting ; The soul that rises with us , our life's Star , Hath had elsewhere its setting , And cometh from afar ; Not in entire forgetfulness , And not in utter darkness , But trailing clouds of glory , do we come From ...
Страница 18
... sleep the BRAVE who sink to rest , - - By all their country's wishes bless'd ! -- COLLINS , Ode , 1746 . None but the BRAVE deserves the fair . - DRYDEN , Alexander's Feast . Toll for the BRAVE ! The brave that are no more ! All sunk ...
... sleep the BRAVE who sink to rest , - - By all their country's wishes bless'd ! -- COLLINS , Ode , 1746 . None but the BRAVE deserves the fair . - DRYDEN , Alexander's Feast . Toll for the BRAVE ! The brave that are no more ! All sunk ...
Страница 22
... sleep in the southern corner of a little country churchyard than in the tomb of the CAPULETS . - EDMUND BURKE . Care . And is there CARE in Heaven ? -- SPENSER , Faerie Queene . CARE keeps his watch in every old man's eye ...
... sleep in the southern corner of a little country churchyard than in the tomb of the CAPULETS . - EDMUND BURKE . Care . And is there CARE in Heaven ? -- SPENSER , Faerie Queene . CARE keeps his watch in every old man's eye ...
Страница 24
... sleeps , and life's poor play is o'er . POPE , Essay on Man . By sports like these are all their cares beguil'd ; The sports of children satisfy the CHILD . GOLDSMITH , Traveller . How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a ...
... sleeps , and life's poor play is o'er . POPE , Essay on Man . By sports like these are all their cares beguil'd ; The sports of children satisfy the CHILD . GOLDSMITH , Traveller . How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a ...
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Често срещани думи и фрази
angels bless blows brave breath BUTLER BYRON canto Childe Harold COWPER dark death devil divine Don Juan doth Dream DRYDEN Dunciad earth Essay on Criticism eyes faith fall fame Farewell fear feast fools give GOLDSMITH grave grief Hamlet hath heart heaven hell Henry Henry IV honest honour hope hour Hudibras human Ibid immortal Julius Cæsar King King Lear Lady light live look Lord Love's Macbeth man's Measure for Measure Memoriam Merchant of Venice merry MILTON mind nature Nature's ne'er never Night Thoughts numbers o'er Othello Paradise Lost pleasure poor POPE Queen rhyme Richard Richard III Romeo and Juliet SHAKESPERE sigh sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit sweet tale tears TENNYSON thee There's things thou thousand true truth virtue wind wise woman words WORDSWORTH YOUNG youth
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Страница 23 - It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she just began to move in— glittering like the morning star, full of life, and splendour, and joy.
Страница 74 - tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is honour? A word. What is that word honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! Who hath it? He that died o
Страница 184 - Heaven doth with us as we with torches do: Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not.
Страница 162 - And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress
Страница 161 - 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 : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood : — List, list, O list!
Страница 128 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight ; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
Страница 171 - I'll example you with thievery: The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun...
Страница 105 - AWAKE, my St John ! leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride of kings. Let us (since life can little more supply Than just to look about us and to die) Expatiate free o'er all this scene of Man ; A mighty maze ! but not without a plan ; A wild, where weeds and flowers promiscuous shoot ; Or garden, tempting with forbidden fruit.
Страница 91 - Life ! we've been long together Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 'Tis hard. to part when friends are dear — Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; — Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time; Say not Good Night, — but in some brighter clime Bid me Good Morning.
Страница 137 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.