 | Morton Rae - 1854 - 394 trang
...tenor of her days glided past tranquilly and happily, unruffled by anxiety or care. CHAPTEK XII. " In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after...of his youth doth lie ; As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourished by." IT was even-tide — the sun had shed his... | |
 | William Spalding - 1854 - 446 trang
...That time of year them may'st in me behold, When yellow leaves, or few, or none, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs,...away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. owe their fame chiefly to their lyrics : and some which came to us from the age in question are among... | |
 | 1899 - 852 trang
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 | Etienne Jean Delécluze - 1854 - 726 trang
...bougbs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where laïc the sweet birds sang. In me t hou seest the twilight of such day As after sun-set fadeth...and by black night doth take away, Death's second seir, that seals up ail in rest. In me thou seest the glowing uf such lire, Thaï on the asbes of bis... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1855 - 280 trang
...yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare, ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou...of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourished by. This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love... | |
 | Charles Augustus Ward - 1855 - 208 trang
...yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang, Upon these boughs, which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou...such day, As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which bye-and-by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest." In another... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1856 - 424 trang
...worth. That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs,...of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love... | |
 | 1984 - 526 trang
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That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth... 
