Belgravia, 第 19 巻

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Willmer & Rogers, 1873
 

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340 ページ - Abide with me from morn till eve, For without Thee I cannot live , Abide with me when night is nigh, For without Thee I dare not die.
74 ページ - In the old countries with which fiction has long been conversant, a certain conventional privilege seems to be awarded to the romancer ; his work is not put exactly side by side with nature ; and he is allowed a license with regard to every-day probability, in view of the improved effects which he is bound to produce thereby.
v ページ - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face; That makes simplicity a grace ; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
72 ページ - The book, if you would see anything in it, requires to be read in the clear, brown, twilight atmosphere in which it was written ; if opened in the sunshine, it is apt to look exceedingly like a volume of blank pages.
71 ページ - They have the pale tint of flowers that blossomed in too retired a shade — the coolness of a meditative habit, which diffuses itself through the feeling and observation of every sketch. Instead of passion there is sentiment; and, even in what purport to be pictures of actual life, we have allegory, not always so warmly dressed in its habiliments of flesh and blood as to be taken into the reader's mind without a shiver.
398 ページ - ... swinging about their heads like madmen, their hobby-horses and other monsters skirmishing amongst the throng; and in this sort they go to the church (though the minister be at prayer or preaching), dancing, and swinging their handkerchiefs over their heads in the church like devils incarnate, with such a confused noise that no man can hear his own voice.
486 ページ - Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square ; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. Dear as remember'd kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others ; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret ; O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
435 ページ - I gave my youth; but we ride, in fine. Who knows what's fit for us? Had fate Proposed bliss here should sublimate My being — had I signed the bond — Still one must lead some life beyond, Have a bliss to die with, dim-descried. This foot once planted on the goal, This glory-garland round my soul, • Could I descry such? Try and test! I sink back shuddering from the quest. Earth being so good, would heaven seem best?
74 ページ - Faery Land so like the real world that, in a suitable remoteness, one cannot well tell the difference, but with an atmosphere of strange enchantment, beheld through which, the inhabitants have a propriety of their own.
503 ページ - King William II., surnamed Rufus, being slain, as before related, was laid in a cart belonging to one Purkess, and drawn from hence to Winchester, and buried in the cathedral church of that city.

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