The Poetry and Mystery of DreamsCharles Godfrey Leland E. H. Butler & Company, 1856 - 258 páginas |
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... never investigates the won- drous world within , like a veritable gleam from a spirit world above , it does not appear strange that there have existed in all ages myriads who believed with religious faith that supernatural intimations ...
... never investigates the won- drous world within , like a veritable gleam from a spirit world above , it does not appear strange that there have existed in all ages myriads who believed with religious faith that supernatural intimations ...
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... never wanted races who held with religious faith that " -Departed spirits at their will Could from the Land of Souls pass to and fro , Coming to us in sleep when all is still . " To those who can feel a poetic sympathy with this be ...
... never wanted races who held with religious faith that " -Departed spirits at their will Could from the Land of Souls pass to and fro , Coming to us in sleep when all is still . " To those who can feel a poetic sympathy with this be ...
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... never meant ; And many a word at random spoken Can soothe or heal a heart that's broken . SCOTT . My life is in my hand , and lo ! I grasp and bend it as a bow , And shoot forth from its trembling string An arrow that shall be ...
... never meant ; And many a word at random spoken Can soothe or heal a heart that's broken . SCOTT . My life is in my hand , and lo ! I grasp and bend it as a bow , And shoot forth from its trembling string An arrow that shall be ...
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... never so loud this night , To - morrow it may be still . PERCY'S RELIQUES . Beauty . To dream of beauty ( de Venere ) is a most favourable omen to those who labour industriously , for it is the nature and spring of all life and activity ...
... never so loud this night , To - morrow it may be still . PERCY'S RELIQUES . Beauty . To dream of beauty ( de Venere ) is a most favourable omen to those who labour industriously , for it is the nature and spring of all life and activity ...
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... never grow My wan unwanning shade below , Nor fruits of glossy autumn born My green and glossy leaves adorn , Nor murmuring tribes from me derive The ambrosial treasures of the hive , Yet leave this little spot to me ; Spare , Woodman ...
... never grow My wan unwanning shade below , Nor fruits of glossy autumn born My green and glossy leaves adorn , Nor murmuring tribes from me derive The ambrosial treasures of the hive , Yet leave this little spot to me ; Spare , Woodman ...
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Palavras e frases frequentes
ALICE CAREY angels ARTEMIDORUS ASTRAMPSYCHIUS BAYARD TAYLOR beautiful betokens bound in Morocco bower breath bright C. G. LELAND CHARLES G CHAUCER clouds dark dead death denotes doth Elegantly Engravings evil eyes fair Farewell favourable omen fear flowers forebodes FRANCESCO MANCINI gazed gentle GERMAN DREAM BOOK GERSTENBERGK gilt and gilt gilt edges gleaming gold golden hand happy hath heard heart Heaven HEMANS Illustrated kiss KLINGELBERG lady land light lips Lurley maiden MARTIN FARQUHAR TUPPER merry Methought morning Morocco Antique MOTHERWELL mountain muslin N. P. WILLIS ne'er NICEPHORUS night o'er Oneirology presages rose round seemed silent sing sleep slept slumber song sorrow soul sound spirit Splendidly stood strange stream super extra sweet tears thee thine thou thought trees Turkey Morocco Twas vision voice VON GERSTENBERGK waking waves weep wild willow wind wings woke
Passagens conhecidas
Página 206 - And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves. And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak...
Página 145 - In life's morning march, when my bosom was young ; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung. Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore, From my home and my weeping friends never to part ; My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er, And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart. Stay, stay with us, — rest, thou art weary and worn...
Página 225 - Eve, Young virgins might have visions of delight, And soft adorings from their loves receive Upon the honeyed middle of the night If ceremonies due they did aright; As, supperless to bed they must retire, And couch supine their beauties, lily white; Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.
Página 83 - FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon : As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song ; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along.
Página 211 - How beautiful is the rain ! After the dust and heat, In the broad and fiery street, In the narrow lane, How beautiful is the rain ! How it clatters along the roofs, Like the tramp of hoofs ! How it gushes and struggles out From the throat of the overflowing spout ! Across the window-pane It pours and pours ; And swift and wide, With a muddy tide, Like a river down the gutter roars The rain, the welcome rain...
Página 88 - They slept on the abyss without a surge — The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, The moon their mistress had expired before ; The winds were withered in the stagnant air, And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need Of aid from them— She was the universe.
Página 142 - Some say that gleams of a remoter world Visit the soul in sleep, — that death is slumber. And that its shapes the busy thoughts outnumber Of those who wake and live. I look on high ; Has some unknown omnipotence unfurled The veil of life and death...
Página 88 - I HAD a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air...
Página 62 - It ceased ; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, — A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Página 249 - Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them!