The Antiquary, Том 37

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Edward Walford, John Charles Cox, George Latimer Apperson
E. Stock, 1901
 

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Стр. 367 - SUNSET and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho...
Стр. 139 - I do not love thee, Dr. Fell, The reason why I cannot tell; But this I know, and know full well, I do not love thee. Dr. Fell.
Стр. 105 - In him was life; and the life was the light of men. That was the true Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.
Стр. 265 - For he would never thus have flown, And left me twice so doubly lone, — Lone as the corse within its shroud, Lone as a solitary cloud, A single cloud on a...
Стр. 365 - A land of old upheaven from the abyss By fire, to sink into the abyss again ; Where fragments of forgotten peoples dwelt, And the long mountains ended in a coast Of ever-shifting sand, and far away The phantom circle of a moaning sea. There the pursuer could pursue no more, And he that fled no further fly the King...
Стр. 102 - And he brought me into the inner court of the Lord's house, and, behold, at the door of the temple of the Lord, between the porch and the altar, were about five and twenty men, with their backs toward the temple of the Lord, and their faces toward the east; and they worshipped the sun toward the east.
Стр. 339 - THERE is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign ; Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish, pain. 2 There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flowers : Death, like a narrow sea, divides This heavenly land from ours.
Стр. 82 - But the Nightingale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet loud music out of her little instrumental throat, that it might make mankind to think miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the very labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say...
Стр. 198 - No, Sir ; there is nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so much happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn.
Стр. 312 - Because whatsoever is done through folly, no one can ever reckon for craft. This is now especially to be said ; that I wished to live honourably whilst I lived, and after my life to leave to the men who were after me, my memory in good works.

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