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第244页 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we; Of many far wiser than we ; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE ; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
第185页 - Like the poor cat i' the adage? MACB. Prithee, peace: I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none. LADY M. What beast was't then That made you break this enterprise to me? When you durst do it, then you were a man; And, to be more than what you were, you would Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you.
第243页 - In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee ; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea...
第185页 - Merciful heaven! What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.
第243页 - Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea...
第184页 - This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed The air is delicate.
第185页 - 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!
第242页 - Irascible, envious—bad enough, but not the worst, for these salient angles were all varnished over with a cold, repellant cynicism, his passions vented themselves in sneers. There seemed to him no moral susceptibility; and, what was more remarkable in a proud nature, little or nothing of the true point of honor.
第243页 - He had, to a morbid excess, that desire to rise which is vulgarly called ambition, but no wish for the esteem or the love of his species; only the hard wish to succeed— not shine, not serve— succeed, that he might have the right to despise a world which galled his self-conceit.