THE WEARING OF THE GREEN. VOLUME 3 OF 3.

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第169页 - Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say, Behold ! The jaws of darkness do devour it up, So quick bright things come to confusion.
第221页 - Lear. The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweet-heart, see, they bark at me.
第169页 - Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth. And ere a man hath power to say, — Behold ! The jaws of darkness do devour it up : So quick bright things come to confusion.
第153页 - Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
第245页 - With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung A hideous peal ; yet, when they list, would creep, If aught disturbed their noise, into her womb, And kennel there, yet there still barked and howled Within unseen.
第245页 - Before the gates there sat On either side a formidable Shape. The one seemed woman to the waist, and fair, But ended foul in many a scaly fold, Voluminous and vast — a serpent armed With mortal sting.
第1页 - Clanging fights, and flaming towns, and sinking ships, and praying hands. But they smile, they find a music centred in a doleful song Steaming up, a lamentation and an ancient tale of wrong, Like a tale of little meaning though the words are strong...
第121页 - And I beseech you, Wrest once the law to your authority: To do a great right, do a little wrong, And curb this cruel devil of his will.
第127页 - They who inspire it most are fortunate, As I am now : but those who feel it most Are happier still, after long sufferings, As I shall soon become.
第168页 - The more we live, more brief appear Our life's succeeding stages : A day to childhood seems a year, And years like passing ages. The gladsome current of our youth, Ere passion yet disorders, Steals lingering like a river smooth Along its grassy borders. But as the care-worn cheek grows wan, And sorrow's shafts fly thicker, Ye Stars, that measure life to man, Why seem your courses quicker ? When joys have lost their bloom and...

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