The National Magazine: Devoted to Literature, Art, and Religion, 12 tomasAbel Stevens, James Floy Carlton & Phillips, 1858 |
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2 psl.
... never , never break the spell . If she could speak , perchance the tale Would be ( too oft sad woman's fate ! ) The history of a trusting heart , Bow'd down and crush'd by ruthless hate . And cold disdain , and stern neglect , A sad ...
... never , never break the spell . If she could speak , perchance the tale Would be ( too oft sad woman's fate ! ) The history of a trusting heart , Bow'd down and crush'd by ruthless hate . And cold disdain , and stern neglect , A sad ...
10 psl.
... never saw Edinburgh till on her way to England when about twenty - two years of age . Before that period she had never been above ten or twelve miles from home , and , with the exception of Bothwell , never formed much attachment to ...
... never saw Edinburgh till on her way to England when about twenty - two years of age . Before that period she had never been above ten or twelve miles from home , and , with the exception of Bothwell , never formed much attachment to ...
22 psl.
... never felt . There was Miss Fernley , for instance , a maiden lady of immense antiquity , whom we used to visit when I was a little girl . She lived in a large , genteel , red - brick house , inclosed in a stiff garden , with a great ...
... never felt . There was Miss Fernley , for instance , a maiden lady of immense antiquity , whom we used to visit when I was a little girl . She lived in a large , genteel , red - brick house , inclosed in a stiff garden , with a great ...
23 psl.
... never to sit in her presence until invited to do so . The way I became acquainted with the life - romance of this gray , lonely old lady was as follows . She invited me to take up my abode at her house for a week when I was about ...
... never to sit in her presence until invited to do so . The way I became acquainted with the life - romance of this gray , lonely old lady was as follows . She invited me to take up my abode at her house for a week when I was about ...
38 psl.
... never provoked or injured . But these feelings of animosity against the French , engendered by their unadvised alliance with the Canadian In- dians , and stealthy attack upon the Iro- quois , was in no wise allayed by the sub- sequent ...
... never provoked or injured . But these feelings of animosity against the French , engendered by their unadvised alliance with the Canadian In- dians , and stealthy attack upon the Iro- quois , was in no wise allayed by the sub- sequent ...
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The National Magazine– Devoted to Literature, Art, and Religion, 10 tomas Abel Stevens,James Floy Visos knygos peržiūra - 1857 |
The National Magazine– Devoted to Literature, Art, and Religion, 4 tomas Abel Stevens,James Floy Visos knygos peržiūra - 1854 |
The National Magazine– Devoted to Literature, Art, and Religion, 13 tomas Abel Stevens,James Floy Visos knygos peržiūra - 1858 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Abraham American appear army arquebus Beacon Falls beautiful blessing Bothwell British called Charles Goodyear child Christ Christian Church color command Cusco dark dead death Delhi enemy England English eyes faith father feel feet fire French give green ground hand happy head heard heart heaven Huguenots hundred India Indians Iroquois Jesuits Joanna Baillie Kilauea king labor lady lake land light living look Lord Lucknow Magyars Marshal de Biron ment miles mind morning mountain native nature Naugatuck never night once Padmavati palkee passed present prisoners Putnam Quebec reached river seems seen sent Sepoy side soon soul spirit stereoscope things thou thought thousand tion took town trees turned Tyrian purple village whole woman words young
Populiarios ištraukos
155 psl. - A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet.
157 psl. - But tell me, tell me ! speak again, Thy soft response renewing — What makes that ship drive on so fast? What is the ocean doing?" SECOND VOICE " Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast — If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see ! how graciously She looketh down on him.
157 psl. - Is it he?' quoth one, 'Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross. • The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.
428 psl. - See, I have this day set thee over the nations and over the kingdoms, to root out, and to pull down, and to destroy, and to throw down, to build, and to plant.
353 psl. - That be far from thee to do after this manner, to slay the righteous with the wicked : and that the righteous should be as the wicked, that be far from thee : Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right...
5 psl. - Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, everywhere Nor any drop to drink. • The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea.
423 psl. - THEE, O Lord, do I put my trust; let me never be ashamed: deliver me in thy righteousness.
424 psl. - The place of the Scripture which he read was this, He was led as a sheep to the slaughter ; and like a lamb dumb before his shearer, so opened he not his mouth : In his humiliation his judgment was taken away : and who shall declare his generation ? for his life is taken from the earth.
159 psl. - The Pilot and the Pilot's boy, I heard them coming fast: Dear Lord in Heaven ! it was a joy The dead men could not blast. I saw a third — I heard his voice: It is the Hermit good! He singeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood. He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood.
157 psl. - It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.