Englische studien: Organ für englische philologie unter mitberücksichtigung des englischen unterrichts auf höheren schulen ..., Volume 31

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Gebr. Henninger, 1902 - English philology
 

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Page 125 - Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost.
Page 372 - Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Page 267 - ... harsh and sometimes obscure, which is not wholly to be imputed to the abstruse subjects of which he commonly treated, out of the paths trod by other men, but to a little undervaluing the beauty of...
Page 402 - s to come Well, to renew : x.1 His mother was a learned lady, famed For every branch of every science known — In every Christian language ever named, With virtues equalled by her wit alone : She made the cleverest people quite ashamed, And even the good with inward envy groan, Finding themselves so very much exceeded, In their own way, by all the things that she did.
Page 303 - STRONG Son of God, immortal Love, Whom we, that have not seen thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where we cannot prove; Thine are these orbs of light and shade; Thou madest Life in man and brute ; Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot Is on the skull which thou hast made. Thou wilt not leave us in the dust: Thou madest man, he knows not why, He thinks he was...
Page 204 - For the camp's stir and crowd and ceaseless larum, The neighing war-horse, the air-shattering trumpet, The unvaried, still returning hour of duty, Word of command, and exercise of arms — There's nothing here, there's nothing in all this To satisfy the heart, the gasping heart ! Mere bustling nothingness, where the soul is not — This cannot be the sole felicity, These cannot be man's best and only pleasures.
Page 303 - Nor thro' the questions men may try, The petty cobwebs we have spun: If e'er when faith had fall'n asleep, I heard a voice, 'Believe no more' And heard an ever-breaking shore That tumbled in the Godless deep; A warmth within the breast would melt The freezing reason's colder part, And like a man in wrath...
Page 304 - The Danube to the Severn gave The darken'd heart that beat no more; They laid him by the pleasant shore, And in the hearing of the wave. There twice a day the Severn fills; The salt sea-water passes by, And hushes half the babbling Wye, And makes a silence in the hills.
Page 203 - ... hurries ! But on some morrow morn, all suddenly, The tents drop down, the horde renews its march. Dreary, and solitary as a church-yard The meadow and down-trodden seed-plot lie, And the year's harvest is gone utterly. Max. O let the Emperor make peace, my father ! Most gladly would I give the blood-stained laurel For the first violet of the leafless spring, Plucked in those quiet fields where I have journeyed ! Oct.

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