The Dublin University Magazine: A Literary and Political Journal, 第 67 卷；第 69 卷
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answered appeared arms asked Aunt Dinah beautiful better bishop brought called carried cattle century character Church coming course dare dear death Doctor don't England eyes face fact feel gave give given Glastonbury Abbey half hand head hear heard heart hope idea Irish Italy James John Kate Kincton kind king lady laughed leave less light living look Lord matter Maubray mean mind Miss nature never night once passed Perfect perhaps person play poor present pretty received seemed seen sent side smile soon sort soul spirit stand suppose sure taken tell thing thought tion told took Trevor turned walk whole wish woman young
第514页 - Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
第444页 - True, I talk of dreams; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
第299页 - The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven, Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given; The massy earth and sphered skies are riven! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
第96页 - But doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth, that he cannot endure in his age: Shall quips, and sentences, and these paper bullets of the brain, awe a man from the career of his humour? No: The world must be peopled. When I said, I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.— Here comes Beatrice : By this day, she's a fair lady : I do spy some marks of love in her.
第459页 - Our life is two-fold : Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence : Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality. And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy...
第185页 - MILTON ! thou shouldst be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
第168页 - All the earth doth worship thee, the Father everlasting. To thee all Angels cry aloud, the Heavens and all the Powers therein. To thee Cherubim and Seraphim continually do cry: Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth; Heaven and earth are full of the majesty of thy glory.
第58页 - How happy could I be with either, Were t'other dear Charmer away!
第34页 - Howbeit Jesus suffered him not, but saith unto him, Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compassion on thee.
第299页 - A light is past from the revolving year, And man, and woman; and what still is dear Attracts to crush, repels to make thee wither. The soft sky smiles, — the low wind whispers near: 'Tis Adonais calls! oh, hasten thither, No more let Life divide what Death can join together.