Round about home in the spring-time. Village life

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Smith, Elder, 1865
 

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Seite 40 - But our work, — behold that is not abolished, that has not vanished : our work, behold, it remains, or the want of it remains ; — for endless Times and Eternities, remains ; and that is now the sole question with us...
Seite 173 - tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.
Seite 176 - But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think...
Seite 226 - Cela est vrai; elle a les yeux petits, mais elle les a pleins de feu, les plus brillants, les plus perçants du monde, les plus touchants qu'on puisse voir.
Seite 177 - Novelwright exclaim, that I, here where I sit, am the Foolishest of existing mortals ; that this my Long-ear of a Fictitious Biography shall not find one and the other, into whose still longer ears it may be the means, under Providence, of instilling somewhat? We answer, None knows, none can certainly know : therefore, write on, worthy Brother, even as thou canst, even as it has been given thee. Here, however, in regard to
Seite 177 - Howsoever it is a kind of policy in these days to prefix a phantastical title to a book which is to be sold. For as Larks come down to a day-net, many vain readers will tarry and stand gazing, like silly passengers, at an antick picture in a painter's shop, that will not look at a judicious piece.
Seite 43 - HAPPY is England ! I could be content To see no other verdure than its own ; To feel no other breezes than are blown Through its tall woods with high romances blent : Yet do I sometimes feel a languishment For skies Italian, and an inward groan To sit upon an Alp as on a throne, And half forget what world or worldling meant. Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters ; Enough their simple loveliness for me, Enough their whitest arms...
Seite 227 - Morbleu! faut-il que je vous aime! Ah! que si de vos mains je rattrape mon cœur, Je bénirai le ciel de ce rare bonheur! Je ne le cèle pas, je fais tout mon possible A rompre de ce cœur l'attachement terrible; Mais mes plus grands efforts n'ont rien fait jusqu'ici, Et c'est pour mes péchés que je vous aime ainsi.
Seite 28 - There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds.
Seite 229 - Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask from the face of the Pharisee, is not to lift an impious hand to the Crown of Thorns.

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