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Страница 310 - A ces mots le corbeau ne se sent pas de joie ; Et, pour montrer sa belle voix, II ouvre un large bec, laisse tomber sa proie. Le renard s'en saisit, et dit : 'Mon bon monsieur, Apprenez que tout flatteur Vit aux dépens de celui qui l'écoute : Cette leçon vaut bien un fromage, sans doute.
Страница 302 - ON A GIRDLE. That which her slender waist confined, Shall now my joyful temples bind ; No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done. It was my heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer, My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass, and yet there Dwelt all that's good and all that's fair; Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.
Страница 309 - Hé, bonjour, monsieur du Corbeau Que vous êtes joli! que vous me semblez beau! Sans mentir, si votre ramage Se rapporte à votre plumage, Vous êtes le phénix des hôtes de ces bois.
Страница 301 - ON A GIRDLE THAT which her slender waist confined, Shall now my joyful temples bind; No monarch but would give his crown, His arms might do what this has done. It was my heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer, My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move! A narrow compass! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair; Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round!
Страница 302 - Then die, that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee ; How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
Страница 257 - II m'enseigne à n'avoir affection pour rien; De toutes amitiés il détache mon âme ; Et je verrais mourir frère , enfants , mère , et femme, Que je m'en soucierais autant que de cela. CLÉANTE. Les sentiments humains , mon frère , que voilà ! ORGON.
Страница 303 - To succeed her, and not you ; Who already have of me All that's not idolatry : Which, though not so fierce a flame, Is longer like to be the same.
Страница 300 - Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet ah ! why should they know their fate ? Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies. Thought would destroy their paradise. No more ; where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Страница 335 - Mais n'ayons point d'amour : il est trop dangereux. Dieux ! disait le berger, quelle est ma récompense ? Vous ne me marquerez aucune préférence. Avec cette amitié dont vous flattez mes maux, Vous vous plairez encore au chant de mes rivaux.