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Seite 204 - thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
Seite 60 - Where the great sun begins his state, Robed in flames, and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight; While the ploughman near at hand Whistles o'er the furrowed land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Seite 175 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Seite 181 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease; For summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
Seite 19 - Though justice be thy plea, consider this — That in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation : we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy.
Seite 25 - O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...
Seite 139 - Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the Sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet ?— God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!
Seite 22 - Tarry a little ; — there is something else. — This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood ; The words expressly are a pound of flesh : Then take thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh ; But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate Unto the state of Venice.
Seite 19 - The quality of mercy is not strain'd ; It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath : it is twice bless'd ; 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 this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God...
Seite 75 - Those are Grecian ghosts that in battle were slain, And unburied remain Inglorious on the plain. Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes, And glitt'ring temples of their hostile gods...