Hours at Home, Volumen9

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Charles Scribner & Company, 1869
 

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Página 43 - Me miserable ! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath, and infinite despair? Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell; And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep Still threatening to devour me opens wide, To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven.
Página 44 - That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
Página 38 - Thy creature, who fain would not wander from thee! Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride ; From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free.' " And darkness and doubt are now flying away ; No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn. So breaks on the traveller, faint and astray, The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn. See truth, love, and mercy in triumph descending, And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom ! On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending, And beauty immortal...
Página 38 - Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more ; I mourn, but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you ; For morn is approaching, your charms to restore, Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew : Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn ; Kind nature the embryo blossom will save.
Página 33 - Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Página 212 - The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, In whatso we share with another's need; Not what we give, but what we share, For the gift without the giver is bare; Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.
Página 504 - Say the bells of St. Martin's. " When will you pay me? " Say the bells of Old Bailey. "When I grow rich," Say the bells of Shoreditch. "When will that be?" Say the bells of Stepney. " I do not know,
Página 478 - Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church ; and he is the saviour of the body. Therefore, as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing.
Página 44 - tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them ? To die to sleep No more and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die to sleep...
Página 414 - Oh, how I long my careless limbs to lay Under the plantain's shade, and all the day With amorous airs my fancy entertain, Invoke the Muses, and improve my vein!

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