Horae Subsecivae: Rab and His Friends : and Other Papers

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Bernhard Tauchnitz, 1862 - 340 страници

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Страница 294 - THE Danube to the Severn gave The darken'd heart that beat no more ; They laid him by the pleasant shore, And in the hearing of the wave. There twice a day the Severn fills ; The salt sea-water passes by, And hushes half the babbling Wye, And makes a silence in the hills.
Страница 126 - There were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor. The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds : but the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had bought and nourished up: and it grew up together with him, and with his children ; it did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom and was unto him as a daughter.
Страница 133 - If the foot shall say, Because I am not the hand, I am not of the body; is it therefore not of the body?
Страница 159 - Then the dukes of Edom shall be amazed ; the mighty men of Moab, trembling shall take hold upon them; all the inhabitants of Canaan shall melt away.
Страница 328 - Behold, I stand at the door, and knock : if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and sup with him, and he with me.
Страница 133 - God hath tempered the body together, having given more abundant honour to that part which lacked: that there should be no schism in the body, but that the members should have the same care one for another. And whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it.
Страница 126 - And he wrote in the letter, saying, Set ye Uriah in the forefront of the hottest battle, and retire ye from him, that he may be smitten, and die.
Страница 223 - Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Страница 293 - O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still! Break, break, break At the foot of thy crags, O sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
Страница 295 - Time; Which masters Time indeed, and is Eternal, separate from fears: The all-assuming months and years Can take no part away from this...

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