Comentarios de usuarios - Escribir una reseña
No hemos encontrado ninguna reseña en los sitios habituales.
Ajut Anningait arms battle beauty behold Black Crows blessed blood bosom breast breath bright brow Brutus Caius Verres Chirsty cried dark death deep deer fly delight dread earth Eliza Cook eyes fair faith father fear feel Gelert give glory grace grave hand happiness hath head hear heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre honour hope hour human inflection king labour Laird light live look look'd Lord Lord Byron mind morning nature never night numbers o'er once passion peace Pibroch pleasure poor pride religion replied rise round Sally Brown Satan scene sigh smile soul sound spirit stood storm suffer sweet sword tears tell tempest thee thing Thomas Hood thou hast thought thunder tion tremble Twas uncle Toby virtue voice waves weep wild wind words young youth
Página 349 - tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
Página 234 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind; The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide; To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame...
Página 233 - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Página 314 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this "Song of the Shirt.
Página 244 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass, Grieving — if aught inanimate e'er grieves — Over the unreturning brave, — alas ! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure; when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe, And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low!
Página 359 - Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then the soldier, Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon...
Página 352 - Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touched his body, that did stab, And not for justice ? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large...
Página 171 - All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower.