Kingsconnell, a Tale


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第378页 - THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary...
第216页 - I love thee, and it is my love that speaks— There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dressed in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, As who should say, 'I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips let no dog bark'....
第61页 - Above, below, aerial murmurs swell, From hanging wood, brown heath, and bushy dell ! A thousand nameless rills, that shun the light, Stealing soft music on the ear of night.
第280页 - 1 terzo cerchio serra La rividi più bella e meno altera. Per man mi prese e disse : In questa spera Sarai ancor meco, se '1 desir non erra. I* son colei che ti die' tanta guerra E compie
第62页 - In youth we love the darksome lawn Brushed by the owlet's wing; Then, Twilight is preferred to Dawn, And Autumn to the Spring. Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness.
第16页 - He was the first that charged the foe On Preston's bloody sod ; And ever, in the van of fight, The foremost still he trod, Until on bleak Culloden's heath, He gave his soul to God, Like a good old Scottish cavalier, All of the olden time...
第280页 - 1 mio bene, e per queste orme torno a vedere ond' al ciel nuda è gita lasciando in terra la sua bella spoglia. 1 4 CCCII. Levommi il mio penser in parte ov' era quella ch' io cerco e non ritrovo in terra; ivi, fra lor che '1 terzo cerchio serra, la rividi più bella e meno altera. Per man mi prese e disse: « In questa spera sarai ancor meco, se '1 desir non erra: i' so' colei che ti die tanta guerra e compie
第324页 - Neebour's fauts and folly ! Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill, Supply'd wi' store o' water, The heapet happer's ebbing still, And still the clap plays clatter. Hear me, ye venerable Core, As counsel for poor mortals, That frequent pass douce Wisdom's door...
第187页 - And he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto them: "Verily I say unto you, that this poor widow hath cast more in, than all they which have cast into the treasury: for all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her living.
第15页 - He was among the prime in worth, An object beauteous to behold ; Well born, well bred; I sent him forth Ingenuous, innocent, and bold : If things ensued that wanted grace, As hath been said, they were not base; And never blush was on my face.