Homer: The Odyssey

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Blackwood, 1882 - 136 páginas

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Página 102 - Death closes all: but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
Página 101 - That ever with a frolic welcome took The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed Free hearts, free foreheads...
Página 107 - Then said Abishai to David, God hath delivered thine enemy into thine hand this day : now therefore let me smite him, I pray thee, with the spear, even to the earth at once, and I will not smite him the second time.
Página 60 - And all at once they sang, " Our island home Is far beyond the wave ; we will no longer roam.
Página 102 - Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and, sitting well in order, smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho...
Página 69 - The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it, But in another country, as he said, Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil : Unknown, and like esteemed, and the dull swain Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon ; And yet more medicinal is it than that Moly That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave.
Página 34 - Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard-lawns And bowery hollows crowned with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
Página 47 - Onely she turnd a pin, and by and by It cut away upon the yielding wave, Ne cared she her course for to apply ; For it was taught the way which she would have, And both from rocks and...
Página 76 - Scoff not at death,' he answered, ' noble chief! Rather would I in the sun's warmth divine Serve a poor churl who drags his days in grief, Than the whole lordship of the dead were mine.
Página 52 - Whom the Muse loved, and gave him good and ill ; 111, that of light she did his eyes deprive, Good, that sweet minstrelsies divine at will She lent him, and a voice men's ears to thrill.

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