The Metropolitan, Band 41James Cochrane, 1844 |
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Seite 132
... in the viewless winds , And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world ; or to be worse than worst Of those , that lawless and incertain thoughts Imagine howling ! - ' tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed ...
... in the viewless winds , And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world ; or to be worse than worst Of those , that lawless and incertain thoughts Imagine howling ! - ' tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed ...
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Beliebte Passagen
Seite 132 - tis too horrible. The weariest and most loathed worldly life, That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.
Seite 132 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world: or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and incertain thought Imagine howling: — 'tis too horrible! The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age,...
Seite 176 - And the LORD said unto Satan, Whence comest thou ? Then Satan answered the LORD, and said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it.
Seite 176 - For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of is come unto me.
Seite 542 - They rose in dark and evil days To right their native land; They kindled here a living blaze That nothing shall withstand. Alas! that Might can vanquish Right — They fell and passed away; But true men, like you men, Are plenty here today.
Seite 541 - We drink the memory of the brave, The faithful and the few: Some lie far off beyond the wave, Some sleep in Ireland, too; All, all are gone; but still lives on The fame of those who died; All true men, like you, men, -. Remember them with pride.
Seite 541 - The dust of some is Irish earth; Among their own they rest; And the same land that gave them birth Has caught them to her breast; And we will pray that from their clay Full many a race may start Of true men, like you, men, To act as brave a part.
Seite 262 - Margaret was buryed in the lower chancel, And William in the higher : Out of her brest there sprang a rose. And out of his a briar. They grew till they grew unto the church top, And then they could grow no higher ; And there they tyed in a true lovers knot, Which made all the people admire.
Seite 261 - When day was gone, and night was come, And all men fast asleep, Then came the spirit of fair Marg'ret, And stood at Williams feet.
Seite 434 - I am sure," writes a pupil who had no personal communications with him whilst at school, and but little afterwards, and who never was in the Sixth Form, " that I do not exaggerate my feelings when I say, that I felt a love and reverence for him as one of quite awful greatness and goodness, for whom I well remember that I used to think I would gladly lay down my life...