Englische Studien, Tom 27

Przednia ok³adka
Eugen Kölbing, Johannes Hoops, Reinald Hoops
O.R. Reisland, 1900

Z wnêtrza ksi±¿ki

Inne wydania - Wy¶wietl wszystko

Kluczowe wyrazy i wyra¿enia

Popularne fragmenty

Strona 291 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale ; look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops; I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Strona 304 - You fellows had better be moving," he said, as he wiped the blade on his victim's doublet. "I think we had," returned Villon, with a gulp. "Damn his fat head !" he broke out. "It sticks in my throat like phlegm. What right has a man to have red hair when he is dead?" And he fell all of a heap again upon the stool, and fairly covered his face with his hands. Montigny and Dom Nicolas laughed aloud, even [Tabary feebly chiming in. "Cry baby," said the monk. "I always said he was a woman," added Montigny,...
Strona 291 - Shakespeare puts them all down, aye, and Ben Jonson too. O that Ben Jonson is a pestilent fellow, he brought up Horace giving the Poets a pill, but our fellow Shakespeare hath given him a purge that made him...
Strona 270 - gainst the streams, To taste the luxury of sunny beams Temper'd with coolness. How they ever wrestle With their own sweet delight, and ever nestle Their silver bellies on the pebbly sand!
Strona 303 - At the monk's other hand, Montigny and Thevenin Pensete played a game of chance. About the first there clung some flavour of good birth and training, as about a fallen angel ; something long, lithe, and courtly in the person; something aquiline and darkling in the face. Thevenin, poor soul, was in great feather: he had done a good stroke of knavery that afternoon in the Faubourg St. Jacques, and all night he had been gaining from Montigny. A flat smile illuminated his face; his bald head shone rosily...
Strona 290 - A spacious field of reasons could I urge , Between his glory, daughter , and thy shame : That poison shows worst in a golden cup ; Dark night seems darker by the lightning flash ; Lilies, that fester, smell far worse than weeds; And every glory that inclines to sin, The shame is treble by the opposite.
Strona 230 - Then fell on Merlin a great melancholy; He walk'd with dreams and darkness, and he found A doom that ever poised itself to fall, An ever-moaning battle in the mist, World-war of dying flesh against the life, Death in all life and lying in all love, The meanest having power upon the highest, And the high purpose broken by the worm.
Strona 303 - and Tabary spluttering admiration at his shoulder. The poet was a rag of a man, dark, little, and lean, with hollow cheeks and thin black locks. He carried his fourand-twenty years with feverish animation. Greed had made folds about his eyes, evil smiles had puckered his mouth. The wolf and pig struggled together in his face. It was an eloquent, sharp, ugly, earthly countenance. His hands were small and prehensile...
Strona 268 - Disturbed thoughts drives me from company And dries my marrow with their watchfulness. Continual trouble of my moody brain Peebles my body by excess of drink And nips me as the bitter north-east wind Doth check the tender blossoms in the spring.
Strona 290 - ... will wave a man, and I with a trice to cut him down. And looking upon him by the advantage of my torch, find it to be my son Horatio. There you may show a passion, there you may show a passion ! Draw me like old Priam of Troy, crying : " The house is a-fire, the house is a-fire, as the torch over my head...

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