Studies in LiteratureH.C. Turnbull, jr., 1870 - 158 Seiten |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 17
Seite 6
... hand attempts to write . Mr. PRENTICE , could handle other things than a writing in- strument without any trouble . Indeed , for a long time after the appearance of the disease , he was able to write many words until the thumb was ...
... hand attempts to write . Mr. PRENTICE , could handle other things than a writing in- strument without any trouble . Indeed , for a long time after the appearance of the disease , he was able to write many words until the thumb was ...
Seite 7
... hand , and exclaimed : " You are GEORGE D. PRENTICE , are you ? Mr. PRENTICE bowed an assent , and Walsh said : " You must know , sir , that I like you ; although you have skinned me from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet ...
... hand , and exclaimed : " You are GEORGE D. PRENTICE , are you ? Mr. PRENTICE bowed an assent , and Walsh said : " You must know , sir , that I like you ; although you have skinned me from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet ...
Seite 8
... hand , instantly threw him to the ground , and held him irresistibly in his grasp . A large crowd gathered around the scene , and nearly every one present cried out , " Kill him ! kill him ! " Mr. PRENTICE instantly let go his hold ...
... hand , instantly threw him to the ground , and held him irresistibly in his grasp . A large crowd gathered around the scene , and nearly every one present cried out , " Kill him ! kill him ! " Mr. PRENTICE instantly let go his hold ...
Seite 15
... " Thou , all unaided and alone , Didst take thy way in life's young years , With no kind hand clasped in thy own , No gentle voice to soothe thy tears . But thy high heart no power could tame , And GEORGE D. PRENTICE . 15.
... " Thou , all unaided and alone , Didst take thy way in life's young years , With no kind hand clasped in thy own , No gentle voice to soothe thy tears . But thy high heart no power could tame , And GEORGE D. PRENTICE . 15.
Seite 17
... hand , he could have expressed thoughts such as only the truly inspired feel . His poems entitled " My Mother's Grave , " and a little poem called " Violets " ( published in the Ledger a few weeks before his death , but written last ...
... hand , he could have expressed thoughts such as only the truly inspired feel . His poems entitled " My Mother's Grave , " and a little poem called " Violets " ( published in the Ledger a few weeks before his death , but written last ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
acting actor admiration affection afterward ANTONY autographs bear beauty BELISARIUS Booth breath called Cawdor character charms CLEOPATRA critics CYMBELINE dark distinguished drama dreams drunk EDWIN BOOTH endeavored everything exclaimed expression exquisite eyes fancy feel female fury GARRICK Gelimer gender genius German giaour Giletta give grace Gypsie Laddie Gypsy HAMLET Heady heard heart Heaven hope husband imagination JANAUSCHEK John John Faa Julius Cæsar King Lady Macbeth language letter lived look Lord Lord Byron Louisville marriage murder nature never Ophelia original palace passion Penn person play poems poet poetry portrayed PRENTICE PRENTICE's purity Richard Henry Lee says SCARLET LETTER scene seems seen SHAKSPEARE Shakspeare's SHELLEY sleep soul speech spirit splendor story sweet thee things thou thought tion truth utmost VANITY FAIR VATHEK verbs virtue weird sisters wife woman wonderful words write written wrote
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 67 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Seite 50 - Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on ; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
Seite 150 - Hell is murky! — Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? — Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? Doct. Do you mark that? Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? — What, will these hands ne'er be clean ? — No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this starting.
Seite 7 - Just to think of it sets me shivering from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet.
Seite 51 - Hence, bashful cunning ! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence ! I am your wife, if you will marry me ; If not, I'll die your maid : to be your fellow You may deny me ; but I'll be your servant, Whether you will or no.
Seite 118 - IN Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
Seite 64 - Sleep no more ! Macbeth does murder sleep,' the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast, — Lady M. What do you mean ? Macb. Still it cried ' Sleep no more ! ' to all the house : ' Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more ; Macbeth shall sleep no more.
Seite 149 - Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters ; — to beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue : look like th' innocent flower, But be the serpent under't.
Seite 149 - The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry 'Hold, hold!
Seite 119 - Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair, Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.