The New Monthly Belle Assemblée, 第 72-73 卷

Joseph Rogerson, 1870

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第174页 - I have nought that is fair?" saith he; "Have nought but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves.
第53页 - And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
第53页 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an Eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist...
第53页 - Read from some humbler poet. Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start...
第174页 - Was it a mother's, soft and white? And have the lips of a sister fair Been baptized in the waves of light? God knows best! he was somebody's love: Somebody's heart enshrined him there; Somebody wafted his name above, Night and morn, on the wings of prayer. Somebody wept when he marched away, Looking so handsome, brave, and grand; Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay; Somebody clung to his parting hand.
第222页 - Fine linen with broidered work from Egypt was that which thou spreadest forth to be thy sail; blue and purple from the isles of Elishah was that which covered thee.
第174页 - Pale are the lips of delicate mould — Somebody's darling is dying now. Back from the beautiful blue-veined brow Brush the wandering waves of gold; Cross his hands on his bosom now — Somebody's darling is still and cold. Kiss him once for Somebody's sake; Murmur a prayer, soft and low; One bright curl from the cluster take — They were Somebody's pride, you know. Somebody's hand hath rested there; Was it a mother's, soft and white?
第293页 - Barere approached nearer than any person mentioned in history or fiction, whether man or devil, to the idea of consummate and universal depravity. In him the qualities which are the proper objects of hatred, and the qualities which are the proper objects of contempt, preserve an exquisite and absolute harmony. In almost every particular sort of wickedness he has had rivals. His sensuality was immoderate ; but this was a failing...
第222页 - See, I have called by name Bezaleel the son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah : and I have filled him with the spirit of God, in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship...
第310页 - They are like the troubled sea, that cannot rest; whose waters cast up mire and dirt.