The Light of Other Days, Volumen1

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Hurst and Blackett, 1858
 

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Página 302 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights and live laborious days: But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life.
Página 288 - They close in clouds of smoke and dust, With sword-sway and with lance's thrust; And such a yell was there Of sudden and portentous birth, As if men fought upon the earth And fiends in upper air; O life and death were in the shout, Recoil and rally, charge and rout, And triumph and despair.
Página 288 - Bearing before them, in their course, The relics of the archer force, Like wave with crest of sparkling foam, Right onward did Clan-Alpine come. Above the tide, each broadsword bright Was brandishing like beam of light, Each targe was dark below; And with the ocean's mighty swing, When heaving to the tempest's wing, They hurl'd them on the foe.
Página 239 - High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin...
Página 226 - I found her on the floor In all the storm of grief, yet beautiful ; Pouring forth tears at such a lavish rate, That were the world on fire, they might have drown'd The wrath of Heaven, and quench'd the mighty ruin.
Página 85 - Nor board nor garner own we now, Nor roof nor latched door. Nor kind mate, bound, by holy vow, To bless a good man's store. Noon lulls us in a gloomy den, And night is grown our day; Uprouse ye, then, my merry men! And use it as ye may.
Página 260 - Or the unseen Genius of the wood. But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloisters pale, And love the high embowed roof, With antic pillars massy proof, And storied windows, richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.
Página 230 - For time is like a fashionable host, That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arms outstretched, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer : welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing.
Página 122 - Oh! from the rock on the hill; from the top of the windy steep, speak, ye ghosts of the dead! speak, I will not be afraid! Whither are ye gone to rest? In what cave of the hill shall I find the departed? No feeble voice is on the gale; no answer half-drowned in the storm!
Página 227 - While we two sat together, leaned that night So close my very garments crept and thrilled With strange electric life, and both my cheeks Grew red, then pale, with touches from my hair In which his breath was...

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