Pot-pourri from a Surrey Garden

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Smith, Elder, 1897 - 381 Seiten
 

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Beliebte Passagen

Seite 224 - God Almighty first planted a garden; and, indeed, it is the purest of human pleasures; it is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man...
Seite 264 - For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.
Seite 189 - Half-hidden, like a mermaid in seaweed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Seite 155 - Fresh pearls to their enamel gave, And the bellowing of the savage sea Greeted their safe escape to me. I wiped away the weeds and foam, I fetched my sea-born treasures home ; But the poor, unsightly, noisome things Had left their beauty on the shore With the sun and the sand and the wild uproar.
Seite 297 - No wonder the sick-room and the lazaretto have so often been a refuge from the tossings of intellectual doubt — a place of repose for the worn and wounded spirit. Here is a duty about which all creeds and all philosophies are at one : here, at least, the conscience will not be dogged by doubt — the benign impulse will not be checked by adverse theory ; here you may begin to act without settling one preliminary question.
Seite 133 - Le ciel est, par-dessus le toit, Si bleu, si calme ! Un arbre, par-dessus le toit, Berce sa palme. La cloche, dans le ciel qu'on voit, Doucement tinte. Un oiseau sur l'arbre qu'on voit Chante sa plainte. Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, la vie est là, Simple et tranquille. Cette paisible rumeur-là Vient de la ville. — Qu'as-tu fait, ô toi que voilà Pleurant sans cesse, Dis, qu'as-tu fait, toi que voilà...
Seite 87 - Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother, Are you awake in the dark? Here we lie cosily, close to each other; Hark to the song of the lark! "Waken!
Seite 20 - Mais elle était du monde où les plus belles choses Ont le pire destin ; Et rose elle a vécu ce que vivent les roses, L'espace d'un matin.
Seite 87 - Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother, What kind of flower will you be ? I'll be a poppy — all white, like my mother ; Do be a poppy like me. What ! you're a sun-flower ? How I shall miss you When you're grown golden and high! But I shall send all the bees up to kiss you ; Little brown brother, good-bye.

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