The Foreign Quarterly Review, 第 36-37 卷

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Treuttel & Würtz, 1846
 

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第74页 - License they mean when they cry Liberty ; For who loves that must first be wise and good : But from that mark how far they rove we see, For all this waste of wealth and loss of blood.
第68页 - I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shall not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, go; farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go; and quickly, too.
第27页 - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy Soul's immensity; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, — Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find...
第222页 - Ich träum als Kind mich zurücke, Und schüttle mein greises Haupt; Wie sucht ihr mich heim, ihr Bilder, Die lang ich vergessen geglaubt? Hoch ragt aus schattgen Gehegen Ein schimmerndes Schloß hervor, Ich kenne die Türme, die Zinnen, Die steinerne Brücke, das Tor.
第163页 - I do not like thee, Doctor Fell; The reason why I cannot tell; But this I know and know full well. I do not like thee. Doctor Fell!
第151页 - But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves, Long-sounding isles, and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence, and a dread repose...
第187页 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lies him down, the lubber fiend, And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength; And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
第27页 - Thou little child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife ? Full soon thy soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost and deep almost as life.
第227页 - Der Zopf, der hängt ihm hinten. Da hat er flink sich umgedreht, Und wie es stund, es annoch steht Der Zopf, der hängt ihm hinten. Da dreht er schnell sich anders "rum, 's wird aber noch nicht besser drum Der Zopf, der hängt ihm hinten. Er dreht sich links, er dreht sich rechts, Es tut nichts Guts, es tut nichts Schlechts Der Zopf, der hängt ihm hinten.
第76页 - Ie feu roi devina ce point, Que ceux de la maison de Guise Mettraient ses enfants en pourpoint, Et son pauvre peuple en chemise...

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