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Seite 115 - Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom He pleases.
Seite 158 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines...
Seite 111 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty ! thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair: thyself how wondrous then, Unspeakable ! who sitt'st above these heavens To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
Seite 147 - I will not leave you long ; For in your shades I deem some spirit dwells, Who from the chiding stream, or groaning oak, Still hears and answers to Matilda's moan.
Seite 64 - Jésus-Christ, si on ne trouvait plus de douceur dans le mépris, dans la pauvreté, dans le dénûment et dans le rebut des hommes que dans les délices du péché. Et ainsi, comme dit Tertullien, il ne faut pas croire que la vie des chrétiens soit une vie de tristesse. On ne quitte les plaisirs que pour d'autres plus grands.
Seite 131 - Unrighteous Lord of Love, what law is this, That me thou makest thus tormented be, The whiles she lordeth in licentious blisse Of her freewill, scorning both thee and me ? See!
Seite 350 - O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day ; Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away ! Re-enter PANTHINO.
Seite 74 - Bright Chanticleer proclaims the dawn, And spangles deck the thorn ; The lowing herds now quit the lawn, The lark springs from the corn ; Dogs, huntsmen, round the window throng, Fleet Towler leads the cry. Arise ! the burden of my song— This day a Stag must die ! Choi-us.
Seite 282 - J'entre en une humeur noire, en un chagrin profond, Quand je vois vivre entre eux les hommes comme ils font ; Je n'y puis plus tenir, j'enrage ; et mon dessein Est de rompre en visiere a tout le genre bumain.
Seite 12 - French horns burst upon our ears, waking the echoes all around, while the delightful harmony was repeated from every recess which echo haunted on the borders of the lake ! At first, indeed, the surprise was almost too much for Mrs. Major, and she became a little hysterical ; but she was soon recovered by the Major's tenderness and assurances of safety. Indeed, he is, without exception, the most exemplary and devoted husband I ever beheld ; — still I confess (but that is entre...