The Children's Bower; Or, What You Like, Band 2

Longman, Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1858

Im Buch

Was andere dazu sagen - Rezension schreiben

Es wurden keine Rezensionen gefunden.

Ausgewählte Seiten

Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen

Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen

Beliebte Passagen

Seite 26 - Unutterable love. Sound needed none, Nor any voice of joy ; his spirit drank The spectacle: sensation, soul, and form, All melted into him; they swallowed up His animal being ; in them did he live, And by them did he live; they were his life. In such access of mind, in such high hour Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not ; in enjoyment it expired.
Seite 290 - Fear no more the frown o' the great: Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Seite 240 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted...
Seite 263 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
Seite 233 - I shall do so ; But I must also feel it as a man : I cannot but remember such things were , That were most precious to me. — Did heaven look on , And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff ! They were all struck for thee. Naught that I am , Not for their own demerits , but for mine , Fell slaughter on their souls.
Seite 241 - Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps. There is no Death! What seems so is transition. This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Seite 289 - Implored your highness' pardon and set forth A deep repentance: nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it; he died As one that had been studied in his death, To throw away the dearest thing he owed As 'twere a careless trifle.
Seite 260 - He, the more fortunate ! yea, he hath finished ! For him there is no longer any future, His life is bright — bright without spot it was And cannot cease to be. No ominous hour Knocks at his door 'with tidings of mishap. Far off is he, above desire and fear ; No more submitted to the change and chance Of the unsteady planets. O 'tis well With him ! but who knows what the coming hour Veil'd in thick darkness brings for us ! Coun.
Seite 264 - Cold is thy brow, my son ! and I am chill. As to my bosom I have tried to press thee How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill, Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, And hear thy sweet ' My father ! ' from these dumb And cold lips, Absalom ! The grave hath won thee.
Seite 241 - She is not dead, — the child of our affection,— But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule. In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, By guardian angels led, Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives, whom we call dead.

Bibliografische Informationen