Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen und Literaturen, Volúmenes1-3

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Westermann, 1846
Vols. for 1858- include "Sitzungen der Berliner Gesellschaft für das Studium der neuren Sprachen."
 

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Página 352 - Growing on's cheek (but none knows how) ; With these the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin — All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes. — She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love, has she done this to thee ? What shall, alas ! become of me ? 6 SPRING'S WELCOME What bird so sings, yet so does wail ? O, 'tis the ravished nightingale. Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu ! she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise.
Página 65 - Ronsard, qui le suivit, par une autre méthode, Réglant tout, brouilla tout, fit un art à sa mode, Et toutefois longtemps eut un heureux destin. Mais sa muse, en français parlant grec et latin, Vit dans l'âge suivant, par un retour grotesque, Tomber de ses grands mots le faste pédantesque.
Página 402 - It strikes, it strikes ; now, body, turn to air, Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to Hell. [Thunder and lightning. O soul, be changed into little water-drops, And fall into the ocean : ne'er be found.
Página 401 - Mountains and hills, come, come, and fall on me, And hide me from the heavy wrath of God ! No, no.
Página 400 - Though my heart pants and quivers to remember that I have been a student here these thirty years, O, would I had never seen Wittenberg, never read book ! And what wonders I have done, all Germany can witness, yea, all the world ; for which Faustus hath lost both Germany and the world, yea heaven itself, heaven, the seat of God, the throne of the blessed, the kingdom of joy; and must remain in hell for. ever, hell, ah, hell, for ever!
Página 400 - Oft have I thought to have done so; but the devil threatened to tear me in pieces if I named God ; to fetch me body and soul if I once gave ear to divinity : and now it is too late.
Página 401 - You stars that reign'd at my nativity, Whose influence hath allotted death and hell, Now draw up Faustus, like a foggy mist, Into the entrails of yon...
Página 338 - AH ! were she pitiful as she is fair, Or but as mild as she is seeming so, Then were my hopes greater than my despair, Then all the world were heaven, nothing woe. Ah ! were her heart relenting as her hand, That seems to melt even with the mildest touch, Then knew I where to seat me in a land, Under wide heavens, but yet there is not such.
Página 401 - O, no end is limited to damned souls. Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul? Or, why is this immortal that thou hast? Ah, Pythagoras' metempsychosis, were that true, This soul should fly from me, and I be changed Unto some brutish beast.
Página 352 - At cards for kisses — Cupid paid; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows ; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how...

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