The Friendly Town: A Little Book for the UrbaneMethuen & Company, 1905 - 379 psl. |
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25 psl.
... walk in our forefathers ' way . Why any more cast we an eye On what may come , not what is nigh ? Why vex ourselves with fear or hope , And cares beyond our horoscope ? Who into future times would peer , Looks oft beyond his time set ...
... walk in our forefathers ' way . Why any more cast we an eye On what may come , not what is nigh ? Why vex ourselves with fear or hope , And cares beyond our horoscope ? Who into future times would peer , Looks oft beyond his time set ...
28 psl.
... walking every day ? Was there a tree about which did not know The love betwixt us two ? Henceforth , ye gentle trees , for ever fade , Or your sad branches thicker join , And into darksome shades combine , Dark as the grave wherein my ...
... walking every day ? Was there a tree about which did not know The love betwixt us two ? Henceforth , ye gentle trees , for ever fade , Or your sad branches thicker join , And into darksome shades combine , Dark as the grave wherein my ...
76 psl.
... walk with me Scarce merited such boisterous greeting , Yet blissful prospects he can see Of many a courteous wayside meeting With other dogs , who never fail To rouse an interest none may measure , And set the apex of his tail A ...
... walk with me Scarce merited such boisterous greeting , Yet blissful prospects he can see Of many a courteous wayside meeting With other dogs , who never fail To rouse an interest none may measure , And set the apex of his tail A ...
104 psl.
... walks like Aladdin about his enchanted palace so gently that you do not feel his step . Other wines of a heavy and spiritous nature transform a man into a Silenus : this makes him a Hermes and gives a Woman the soul and im- mortality of ...
... walks like Aladdin about his enchanted palace so gently that you do not feel his step . Other wines of a heavy and spiritous nature transform a man into a Silenus : this makes him a Hermes and gives a Woman the soul and im- mortality of ...
133 psl.
... , years ; and have only this to say now , that as my life began , so I could wish that it may end . The last time I tasted this luxury in its full perfection was one day after a sultry day's walk in summer between Farnham and 133.
... , years ; and have only this to say now , that as my life began , so I could wish that it may end . The last time I tasted this luxury in its full perfection was one day after a sultry day's walk in summer between Farnham and 133.
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Alfred Cochrane beauty Ben Jonson better Bouillabaisse brown chair Charles Lamb Christmas claret clay dear delights door doth dream drink earth ev'ry eyes face fair fancy fire George Meredith give grace hand hath hear heart heaven Horace Walpole J. R. Lowell Jack John Johnson joys knew lady laughed light lips live London look Lord master merry mind mirth morning mortal never night o'er pipe play pleasure poet rich Richard Lovelace round Samuel Pepys Shakespeare sing smile smoke tobacco song soul speak spirit Street sweet T. E. Brown tavern tears tell thee There's thine things thou thought turn twas verse voice W. E. Henley W. M. Thackeray walk William Hazlitt William Makepeace Thackeray wine winter wonder worth Xavier Marmier young youth
Populiarios ištraukos
327 psl. - My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow; An hundred years should go to praise Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze; Two hundred to adore each breast; But thirty thousand to the rest; An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart; For, Lady, you deserve this state, Nor would I love at lower rate. But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.
216 psl. - Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the sooner it wears.
325 psl. - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
321 psl. - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
243 psl. - I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said, "They are gone.
371 psl. - 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.
370 psl. - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate, Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
70 psl. - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.
26 psl. - THEY told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead, They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed. I wept as I remember'd how often you and I Had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky...
327 psl. - Deserts of vast eternity. Thy beauty shall no more be found, Nor in thy marble vault shall sound My echoing song ; then worms shall try That long-preserved virginity, And your quaint honour turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.