Journal des demoiselles

Przednia okładka
Bureau du journal, 1853

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Strona 11 - It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes the throned monarch better than his crown. His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above...
Strona 293 - By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung, As thitherward endeavouring, and upright Stood on my feet: about me round I saw Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by these Creatures that lived and moved, and walked or flew; Birds on the branches warbling; ~a.ll things smiled; With fragrance and with joy my heart o'erflowed.
Strona 11 - Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; It becomes The throned monarch better than his crown : His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice.
Strona 293 - Thou sun, said I, fair light ! And thou enlightened earth, so fresh and gay ! Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains ! And ye that live and move ! fair creatures, tell — Tell if ye saw, how came I thus...
Strona 47 - Ya cansado callaba, Y al nuevo sentimiento Ya sonoro volvía; Ya circular volaba, Ya rastrero corría, Ya, pues, de rama en rama Al rústico seguía; Y saltando en la grama, Parece que decía : « Dame, rústico fiero, Mi dulce compañía ; •» Y que le respondía El rústico: «no quiero.
Strona 293 - Thou sun, said I, fair light, And thou enlighten'd earth, so fresh and gay, Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here...
Strona 222 - COMME un dernier rayon, comme un dernier zéphyre Animent la fin d'un beau jour, Au pied de l'échafaud j'essaye encor ma lyre. Peut-être est-ce bientôt mon tour. Peut-être avant que l'heure en cercle promenée Ait posé sur l'émail brillant, Dans les soixante pas où sa route est bornée, Son pied sonore et vigilant, Le sommeil du tombeau pressera ma paupière.
Strona 293 - Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here? Not of myself, by some great Maker then, In goodness and in power pre-eminent : Tell me, how may I know him, how adore, From whom I have that thus I move and live, And feel that I am happier than I know.
Strona 254 - Le malheur ressemble à la montagne Noire de Bember, aux extrémités du royaume brûlant de Lahor : tant que vous la montez, vous ne voyez devant vous que de stériles rochers; mais quand vous êtes au sommet, vous apercevez le ciel sur votre tête, et à vos pieds le royaume de Cachemire.
Strona 292 - Straight toward Heaven my wondering eyes I turned And gazed awhile the ample sky; till, raised By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung, As thitherward endeavouring, and upright Stood on my feet: about me round I saw Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by these, Creatures that lived and moved, and walked, or flew; Birds on the branches warbling; all things smiled...

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