Wissenschaftliche Grammatik der englischen Sprache, 1 tomasW. Violet, 1877 - 337 psl. |
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Wissenschaftliche Grammatik der englischen Sprache, 1 tomas,2 leidimas Eduard Fiedler Visos knygos peržiūra - 1877 |
Wissenschaftliche Grammatik der englischen Sprache, 1 tomas Eduard Fiedler Visos knygos peržiūra - 1877 |
Wissenschaftliche Grammatik der englischen Sprache, 1 tomas Eduard Fiedler Visos knygos peržiūra - 1850 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Ablaut Ableitung alten Altengl altfranz altn Angelsächsisch auslautend Aussprache Bedeutung beide beos Bildung bisweilen blind Chaucer daher Deklination deutschen Bestandtheils deutschen Sprachen deutschen Wörtern Eigenschaftswörter Einfluss Endung Engl England englischen Sprache entspricht erhalten Ersatzdehnung erst Fällen fast finden findet folgenden Formen Formenlehre franz französischen Wörtern gebraucht Genitiv germanischen Sprachen Geschlecht gewöhnlich geworden gôdan goth Gothisch Grammatik griech grosse häufig Hauptwörter Hinzeigendes Fürwort hire Holstein Interjektionen Jahrh Jahrhunderts jetzt keltischen Konjugation konso Konsonanten kurze Lateinischen Laut Layamon lich Lond Mask meist Mittelengl mittellat Mundarten namentlich Neuags Neuengl neufranz Neutr niederdeutschen Nord Person Pikten Plur Plural Praes Praet Regel sächsischen Sanskrit scheint Schott Schottische Schreibung schwachen selten Silbe Sing Stämme starken statt Theil tuggôns tungan Umlaut uneigentliche unserer ursprünglich Veränderungen Verba Verbindung Verhältniss Verhältnisswörter verschiedenen viel Vokale wenige Wortbildung Zeitwörter Zusammensetzungen zweite þan þät
Populiarios ištraukos
82 psl. - Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest : I see thee still ; And on thy blade, and dudgeon,* gouts of blood, Which was not so before. — There's no such thing ; It is the bloody business, which informs Thus to mine eyes.
82 psl. - I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.
83 psl. - Not distant far from thence, a murmuring sound Of waters issued from a cave, and spread Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved, Pure as the expanse of Heaven: I thither went, With unexperienced thought, and laid me down On the green bank, to look into the clear Smooth lake, that to me seem'd another sky.
88 psl. - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and Music in its roar...
86 psl. - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree, While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as the old surveyed ; And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground, And sleights of art and feats of strength went round.
88 psl. - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined and unknown.
86 psl. - Seats of my youth, when every sport could please, How often have I loitered o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene! How often have I paused on every charm, The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm, The never-failing brook, the busy mill, The decent church that topped the neighbouring hill, The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade, For talking age and whispering lovers made!
85 psl. - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds — Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds; Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
82 psl. - Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it.
82 psl. - I go, and it is done : the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.