The Young Lady's Reader

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S. Babcock, 1839 - 458页

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第126页 - Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested. That is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.
第51页 - Haste thee nymph and bring with thee Jest and youthful jollity, Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles. Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek; Sport that wrinkled care derides. And laughter holding both his sides.
第336页 - THAT time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
第89页 - Curse ye Meroz, (said the angel of the Lord,) curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof; because they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty.
第148页 - Tunes her nocturnal note : thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine...
第75页 - Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law, Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw : Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight, A little louder, but as empty quite...
第312页 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
第348页 - I played a soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story, — An old rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace; For well she knew, I could not choose But gaze upon her face.
第112页 - Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines How silently! Around thee and above, Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black — An ebon mass. Methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge!
第436页 - Farewell, Monsieur Traveller. Look you lisp, and wear strange suits ; disable all the benefits of your own country ; be out of love with your nativity; and almost chide God for making you that countenance you are : or I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola.

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