Araby

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Smart Set Publishing Company, 1904 - 213 頁
 

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第 95 頁 - The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh ! night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong ; Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along From peak to peak the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! And this is in the night.
第 117 頁 - Doubt thou the stars are fire ; Doubt that the sun doth move ; Doubt truth to be a liar ; But never doubt I love.
第 83 頁 - Free love — free field — we love but while we may : The woods are hush'd, their music is no more : The leaf is dead, the yearning past away : New leaf, new life — the days of frost . are o'er : New life, new love to suit the newelj day: New loves are sweet as those that went before : Free love, — free field — we love but while we may.
第 9 頁 - ... Once more upon the waters ! yet once more ! And the waves bound beneath me as a steed That knows his rider. Welcome to their roar! Swift be their guidance, wheresoe'er it lead ! Though the strain'd mast should quiver as a reed.
第 41 頁 - Last night, when some one spoke his name, From my swift blood that went and came A thousand little shafts of flame Were shiver'd in my narrow frame. O Love, O fire ! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul thro' My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
第 155 頁 - But I love you, sir ; And when a woman says she loves a man, The man must hear her, though he love her not, Which . . . hush ! ... he has leave to answer in his turn : She will not surely blame him.
第 201 頁 - I hear a voice, you cannot hear, Which says, I must not stay; I see a hand, you cannot see, Which beckons me away.
第 107 頁 - There is a lust in man no charm can tame, Of loudly publishing his neighbour's shame ; — On eagles' wings immortal scandals fly, While virtuous actions are but born and die.
第 37 頁 - Pathétique;" and that, on the whole, there were worse sorts in England. Mrs. Copeland was most communicative in her own way. The second day out she even told him BaxDrury's life-history — in her own way. According to her, Bax-Drury had loved for years a cousin of her own, a Miss Phyllis Cone. Phyllis flouted him, and he sought the plain joys of friendship with Mrs. Copeland, who loved him devotedly. " Of course, people say that he is my lover, but he isn't; and after all, it really matters so...

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