Zur Alliteration im Neuenglischen. [With] Fortsetzung. Wiss. Beilage zum Progr., Realprogymn. zu Itzehoe, Volumen1

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Términos y frases comunes

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Página 20 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon.
Página 24 - Tender-handed stroke a nettle, And it stings you for your pains ; Grasp it like a man of mettle, And it soft as silk remains.
Página 23 - The world can never give The bliss for which we sigh ; 'Tis not the whole of life to live, Nor all of death to die.
Página 19 - Twas sad, by fits — by starts, 'twas wild. But thou, O Hope! with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ! Still it whispered promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail. Still would her touch the strain prolong ; And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, She...
Página 20 - And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton All in a chaise and pair. My sister, and my sister's child, Myself, and children three, Will fill the chaise ; so you must ride On horseback after we.
Página 20 - Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory — Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.
Página 24 - I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme; From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.3 Hereupon the queen gave strict order (not without some check to her treasurer) for the present payment of the hundred pounds she first intended unto him.
Página 20 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress...
Página 24 - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs ; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land...
Página 23 - The chariest maid is prodigal enough, If she unmask her beauty to the moon: Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes: The canker galls the infants of the spring, Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd; And in the morn and liquid dew of youth Contagious blastments are most imminent.

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